Delilah
by Magda
Summary: A Ga Ga girl who isn't quite sure who she wants to be... she just knows that she doesn't quite fit in. And no, she's not Scaramouche. Limited strong language.
1. You live in a perfect, Ga Ga world, What...

Authors note: this is not exacty a Queen fanfic. It is a We Will Rock You fic, which, if you haven't heard of it, is their musical. All details possible have been taken from the show, all others are lifted from Tanith Lee's 'Drinking Saphire Wine', purely because it's a good book and I felt like it. No disrespect intended.  
  
Disclaimer: the Ga Ga girls do not belong to me. In the show, they have no names, but to help you, in this picture(http://www.bellesdomain.co.uk/wwry/02_03.jpg) the names I have given them are as follows - Delilah, Kylie, Kelly, Poppy. Stacey is out of shot and in orange. The girl in the middle is, obviously, Scaramouche, who does not have a name when this is set that we know of, and since I also don't own her I haven't insulted Ben Elton or Queen by giving her one. And before you start whining, the Ga Gas are different. They're tertiary characters and therefore up for grabs. Anyway, nothing mentioned in here that I can think of right now belongs to me. It's all courtesy(not that they know it) of Queen, Ben Elton, Tanith Lee and, of course, Globalsoft(c).  
  
Summary(this is taking forever....): You live in a perfect, Ga Ga world. All your needs are catered for. But what if you don't like it, and don't know how to change?  
  
  
  
'Cos girl you know, yeah yeah yeah, you're the only one, uh huh.....' A thin, mostly tuneful voice wailed alongside the computer generated multitrack voices and programmed background music trickling tinnily out of the radio unit attached to a blue lycra mini-jacket hanging on the back of a bedroom door. Bright pink fingernails recieved meticulous inspection. A small remnant of popcorn was retrieved and flicked across the room, where it disappeared in a small green flash as it was laser-disintegrated out of existance. A small, amused grin flashed across the Ga Ga girl's face.  
'Delilah, are you alright in there?'  
'Hmm? Oh, yeah mum, I'm fine...' The door swung open, and a hard-life hologram with a bright smile looked round it. She was so realistic, Delilah@Forbes0772.Globalsoft.com sometimes forgot that her real mother had died three years before in a freak personality dissolution shutdown. The body had been quickly and efficiently disposed of, and the network had sent their commiserations and a reduced price computer generated replacement. But every now and then, if the apartment computer was trying to process more information than usual, some of her movements froze, or she flickered slightly from one position to another. Once, when Delilah's father had been programming three year's worth of Ga Ga hits at once while running his VR motorcycling game, and her brother Will had been downloading the last week's music and fashions, their cybermother had left her right forearm in the living room when she went into the kitchen. She was still within her warranty then, so they had automatically got a replacement motherboard and free software, and a wakihol(c) unit so that she could go outside the apartment, if she was programmed to want to. All they had to do in return was sign a disclaimer to the effect that no malfunction had occcured.  
'Oh, you're just -' she froze for a nanosecond while accessing the deepest reaches of her memory, drawing a blank, accessing the main computer and then finally searching online for a definition for what Delilah was doing, '-singing.'  
'I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone else was home, I won't do it again.'  
'Just make sure you don't do it in public, won't you, dear? Everyone has their little quirks,' she froze again for slightly longer, searching for affirmation for this statement. Eventually she found a match in a generally inaccessible folder, deep in the Globalsoft(c) history files. Someone had said it a few decades back as a fact, and it hadn't been publicly denied, so theoretically it must still be an acceptible thing to say. 'But people don't like it. You know what your friends would say.'  
'Yes, mum. I didn't really know I was doing it.'  
'What is it, anyway? Is it that Y'Crono 'You're the only one for me?'  
'No, it's Cerise's 'You're the only girl for me'. Y'Crono's 'You're the only one for me' was last week's number one.'  
'Oh.' The computer-generated face flushed red for a second. She hadn't accessed the Ga Ga databases to identify the song, hoping to show her adopted daughter that she was 'in', but had miscalculated the probability of failure to guess the correct song. 'Oh dear.'  
'I was singing the chorus,' Delilah said, generously, 'It's the same in both.'  
'Oh.' Her CG mother replied, face returning to 'bright smile' mode. 'Why aren't you watching it on your tele-wall?'  
'I've... I'm... well, I know I shouldn't be, but I'm... well, I'm a bit bored of the visual.' Seeing her mother about to send off a report to the manufacturers, she added quickly 'I'll appreciate it better if I haven't seen it for a while, and my eyes are a bit sore. I don't think they're used to this week's liner yet.'  
'Well perhaps - Hm.' her timing circuits had hiccupped slightly, starting her talking before she had completely computed whether or not there was a suitable suggestion to make for this situation. 'Maybe you should play it through the main speakers?'  
'Oh, I didn't think of that.' Delilah replied. 'I was listening to it on my way home from school-'  
'Cyberschool, dear, cyberschool.'  
'-Cyberschool, and I just didn't think to turn it on in here.'  
'That's alright dear, it doesn't matter. Pizza will be ready in three minutes, if you want it, or I can get some burgers, or some fried chicken -'  
'That's alright mum, I don't mind. Pizza's fine.'  
'Would you like anything else with that?'  
'Just a coke and fries. I don't really mind, honest.'  
'Alright then, dear.'  
As she left the room to order the food, the hologram added to her list of Delilah's daily behaviors.*Negative, singing. Possible beginnings of creativity. School, not cyberschool. Innacurate terminology. Positive, doesn't mind what she eats. Ambiguous, didn't think to re-route music through room speakers. Subdirectry. Negative - did not use provided technology. Positive - did not think. GaGa status - calculating - 98%. More work needed. Possible rebellious behavior developing - monitor.*  
She sent off the report along with the food order, and a few seconds later it materialised in the matter-transporter unit. She laid the table, set out the food in it's paper and plastic wrappings, and e-mailed the other members of the house.   
There was a small bleep in Delilah's room, and a discrete message flashed in the top right-hand corner of her telewall. It was accompanied by a CG voice, informing her that:  
  
'You have one new message. Click here to see all new messages.'  
  
Delilah pointed her wrist-unit at the flashing text and clicked. A window containing her mother's face dropped down into a quarter of the wall, and showed the message.  
'Dinner's ready, everybody. Come and eat!'  
Delilah closed the window and dropped her legs over the edge of the bed, and stood up. As she left the room she flicked her radio off, catching the tail-end of a news bulletin as she did so.  
  
'Despite the unseasonal drought the whole of Mall is currently experiencing, experts ensure us that Coke production and it's subsidiaries will not be affe-'  
  
'Oh good.' she muttered, swinging the door shut.  
'Good day at school, Deli?' her father said through a mouthful of chicken as she sat down to eat.  
'Mm, yeah, Kelly and Stacey got preview copies of next month's jackets because they're in the VIP Ga Ga club, dad, can I join?'  
'Don't see why not. Mum, can we afford it?'  
The hologram was standing quietly in the corner of the room, of course not needing nutrient sustenance, in standby mode. Her slightly too smooth face lifted, as she replied  
'Family funds indicate sufficient disposable income.'  
'Great, join Deli up.'  
'Processing request.'  
'What about you, then, Will?'  
'We watched the Hoverball game in Sports, it was a draw.'  
'They're all as good as each other.'  
'Yeah, but the programmers aren't. SportsMode almost always beat BallCom, but they've pulled in some real fast fingers this time. Both teams are through to the next match.'  
'Great.'  
'Dad, do people ever make their own clothes?' Delilah suddenly said.  
'What do you mean, Deli?'  
'You know, not download them.'  
'Why do you ask?' The cybermother programme started recording the conversation, composing a report to the behavioral psychologists at Globalsoft.  
'There's this really weird girl in my class who never wears normal clothes, and she says she makes her own fashion statements. But it's not fashion, so how can it be a fashion statement? Well anyway, she can't download her clothes, no site would host them, so I was wondering where she got them.'  
'Does she like music?'  
'Well, I've heard she isn't a Ga Ga girl.'  
'I think it might be a very good idea for you to stay away from her, then. I don't want you getting any bad influences at your age.'  
'Yes, your father's right.' The CG voice from the corner chipped in. 'There are some very dangerous people out there, and it's best not to put yourself in their way. Stay with your friends.'  
'Don't worry,' Delilah said carefully, 'She's a freak. I wouldn't go near her.'  
*Satisfactory conclusion. No nonconformity displayed. Cancel report.*  
Delilah didn't like lying to her parents. She woud have liked to tell them what she really thought, her honest opinions, how silly she thought fashion was, but she couldn't. She'd heard unpleasant rumours about people who failed to appreciate the generosity of Globalsoft(c). 


	2. School's out, get out there and have som...

Authors note: The girl in black is who we will later in the show come to know and love as Scaramouche. At this point, however, she has no name. Lyrics taken from the show version of 'Radio Ga Ga'.  


* * *

  
  


_Complete control   
you are the power   
our lives are programmed by the hour   
Globalsoft   
  
All we hear is radio Ga Ga   
video Goo Goo   
Internet Ga Ga   
All we hear is Cyberspace Ca Ca   
Marketing Blah Blah   
  
Always something new   
Globalsoft   
All your world loves you_

  
  
  
The next day at cyberschool, Delilah entered the classroom fashionably late, meeting Poppy and Stacey on the way. They ignored each other until they were actually inside the classroom. Anything worth saying was worth saying where they could be overheard, but she'd always though it stupid that you 'just don't' say hello to a friend unless they're on their own, and even then only if they've arranged to meet up with you. The door slid open with a slight hiss as they approached. Inside, clumps of segregated GaGa girls and Zone boys sat on the edges of desks facing inwards, gossiping about the latest computer games and consoles in the case of the boys, fashions, zone boys and CG popstars for the girls. Poppy and Kylie slotted into their places in their circle immediately, and Delilah, being relatively unpopular, stood at the edge and started pushing a less prestigious girl out of the way so that she could hear what was being said.   
'She doesn't even, like, care. I mean, what a freak.'   
'I'm gonna talk to her.' said one girl in green hotpants.   
'Why?!' the others replied, aghast.   
'She's a freak Kelly, you don't wanna be seen near her!' Kylie said.   
'Duh, I'm not gonna be NICE.'   
'Oh, right. Go on, then.'   
'Yeah, go on!'   
'Go on, I dare you to ask if she's a lesbian.'   
'Right, I'm going.' She stood up, brushed imaginary specks of dust off her clothes, and touched up her lipstick.   
  
In a corner of the classroom sat one solitary figure. She didn't wear pastels and although her hair was dyed purple, she hadn't bleached it first, and it looked like it had been in the same two ponytails for months. She sat staring moodily at a switched-off screen, holding her hands over her ears to keep out the inane drivel pouring over her from all quarters of the room. This girl was completely different to the others. She scuffed her illegally downloaded boots against the leg of her desk, moodily pulling at her sleeve. It hadn't turned out the same as the other one, as the craft knife she'd stolen ron Technical Studies had slipped when she was slashing up the front.   
A pink bubble appeared and burst in her face.   
'Oi. Weirdo.' Kelly said, sucking her bubble gum back into her mouth.   
'What?' the 'weirdo' in question replied sullenly.   
'What you doing?'   
'What does it look like I'm doing?'   
'Why you staring at a blank screen? Did you forget how to turn it on?' Kelly recieved a cold stare before the girl in black spoke up again, slowly and clearly, as if to a very small child.   
'I like it. It's black. It's the only black thing in here.'   
'Your clothes are black. Are they black cos you can't keep them clean? I bet you can't.'   
'Fuck off.' Kelly bent over and looked under the desk.   
'Did you lose your shoes or something?'   
'I said, fuck off. It's a short sentence, I thought you would be able to understand it. Leave me alone.'   
'Those are men's boots. Are you really a man, or do just wear them because you're a lesbian?'   
'I'm not a lesbian.'   
'Yeah you are. I've seen you staring at my tits.' She got a disgusted, incredulous stare in return.   
'Even if I was a lesbian, and I'm not, I would not find you in the remotest bit attractive. You're a self-obsessed, boy-obsessed, image-obsessed sad little girl.'   
'I'm sad? I'M sad? Hah! I've got friends. I've got wearable clothes. I've got -' she leant down and raised her voice. By this time, quite a few others were watching and listening. '- a boyfriend! But then again, you wouldn't want one of them, would you?' Her group exploded into a bout of high pitched, comradely giggles. Kelly smirked and flounced back to them. The girl sighed and dropped her head onto her keyboard.   
*Every day. I get this every sodding day. Everybody hates me, including myself. I've got to get out of here. I hate my life. I want to break free.*   
  
'I told her.'   
'Yeah, you told her.'   
'Did you see? She was so lookin' at your bum when you bent over.'   
'She is SO a lesbian.'   
'Yeah, I knew she'd be staring at my arse.'   
'Well, you were kinda waving it in her face...' Delilah said, timidly. Kelly, Kylie, Poppy and Stacey stared at her in horror.   
'Are you tryin' to say I fancy her?' Kelly spluttered.   
'Well no, but you weren't exactly disencouraging h-'   
'I don't believe it. I thought you were meant to be my friend.'   
'Oh no Kelly, I am!' Delilah said, aghast at her stupid mistake. If she couldn't rectify the situation, she could lose her place in the group. And then she'd lose her friends, and before she knew it she could be sitting on her own in the classroom, staring at an empty screen, not caring what she looked like, maybe even wearing black...   
'She'd have been staring at your bum anyway.'   
*Change subject, change subject...*'She's such a freak. Hey, did anyone see the new hotpants? I was online late last night and I... Hey wow, you're wearing them! That's so cool Kelly, you always manage to be in fashion before everyone else.'   
'Yeah.' Kelly said smugly 'My mum stayed up and got them as soon as they were downloadable.'   
Kylie and Stacey tugged uncomfortably at their miniskirts. Alright, they weren't officially out of date yet, but they weren't comfortable knowing that there was something newer. They both made a mental note to download them as soon as they got home.   
'Got the new boots, too.'   
'You have as well.' Kylie said mournfully. 'I feel so last week.'   
'You've got the same jacket, though.' Delilah offered, consolingly. 'You're doing better than me.'   
'Delilah, are you ever gonna join the VIP club?' Poppy asked.   
'Yeah, my dad signed me up last night.'   
'Oh good. It's embarrassing, trailing you around in last week's clothes.'   
'Yeah,' added Kylie 'I mean, we've got a reputation to think of. We're all in the club, and you're - well - not. You let us down.'   
They didn't mean it unkindly. They were simply stating facts, and it didn't cross their fluffy little minds that Delilah could possibly take it badly. Fortunately, she knew this, and didn't.   
'Well, I won't be disappointing you much longer.' Delilah said, with a slightly forced smile.   
*Why do I have to join fancy clothes clubs to keep my friends? Why can't they care about me?*   
  
There was a triple beep and then the figure of a woman in plain, boring, middle-aged looking clothes flashed into existance at the front of the classroom.   
'Good morning, kids.' rang out the voice of the cyberschool principal from the micro speakers in the ceiling and walls. The groups dissipated, and the teenagers sat down and switched on or logged in to their consoles. When the last little red light on her monitor turned green and she saw the whole school was paying attention, the head teacher continued to broadcast her morning message.   
'Settle down, please. Now, I know you are all excited because it's the last day of term, but please remember that we do still have this one day to complete. Today is special, because it marks the end of another successful year for all of you. For one particular class, however, it is an especially important day - for it marks the end of their school career and the start of their lives as Globalsoft employees. And I think they all deserve a special mention, as they have all-' for a moment, her mind drifted to Gordon Jones. That boy had so much potential, but he just wasted it... and insisted on being called Galileo Figaro, for some reason. He practically made her weep. All that nonsense about hearing sounds in his head, when he would make such a good programmer if he could just concentrate... And of course there was that girl. They were carefully kept apart, in case she gave him even more bad influences.'-nearly all had a most successful school career. Congratulations to you all, graduation class. Apart from that, enjoy your last day of ths academic year and have a fun summer.'   
The hologram disappeared and was replaced by the individual form minders. Delilah sat back and turned on her messenger. As it was the last day of term, no real work would be done, just some form-filling and idle chat. The day was busy and fun, packing in some last-minute contact-making and acquaintence refreshing, and a lot of surfing.   
At lunch time, Delilah and Kelly, Kylie, Poppy, Stacey, Annelie and Candice all went to stock up on bubble gum, fast food and popcorn. They went back to the classroom to eat, not wanting to mingle with anyone else.   
As they arranged themselves on the desks surrounding Kelly's, Poppy turned on her console - adjacent to Kelly's - and clicked onto the radio homepage. They were playing the current fast song, 'Everybody Dance', and as she perched on the edge of Kylie's desk and carefully arranged her burger and fries so that they wouldn't fall off, Delilah started tapping her nails on the hard plasti-wood surface in time to the beat. Stacey gave her a slightly odd look, but Delilah was too wrapped up in the conversation to notice.   
'So anyway, he emailed me to say why he didn't turn up afterwards, but he left me standing at the VR arcade for fifteen minutes, waiting for him. I felt so ashamed.' Kelly paused to take a bite of her burger, and Kylie said   
'Yeah, that's like what Justin did to me. I spent three hours blow drying my hair and all he said when he finally turned up was 'Oh, that looks nice.'. I spent so much time doing it, and that's all he had the decency to say.'   
'Oh, that's well out of order.'   
'Yeah.'   
Delilah wanted to point out that it was quite impressive for Justin to have noticed that Kylie had done anything to her hair at all, but decided it would be best not to. Kylie was very sensitive about her hair, especially after that horrible accident she'd had when she mixed up the codes for her coloured streaks. All the green ones had gone purple, and all the orange ones blue - and her outfit that week was lilac. It was a disaster to her, although Delilah privately thought that it actually looked a lot better than it would have done if she hadn't got her numbers mixed up.   
'Yeah, well I dumped him after that. It's the third time he's humiliated me like that.' Kelly said, bringing the conversation back round to her own relationship.   
'Yeah, don't blame you.'   
'My god, leaving you standing there for a whole fifteen minutes.'   
Delilah, not having a boyfriend yet, didn't add anything to the conversation. She idly picked up a few fries and popped them into her mouth, humming along to the song. Again, she got an odd look, but his time from Poppy as well as Stacey.   
'Well, after a while I knew he'd stood me up, so I just left and went home. I went shopping and bought a new bag.'   
'What one?' 'Oh, just some giant logo thing. I threw it away yesterday when I got this one.' She kicked her newer bag, a flat transparent one with the Ga Ga logo printed in the middle. 'The other one was all logo.'   
'Aw yeah, that one's nice.' Candice said, absently.  
  
The girl in black was still siting at her desk, moodily picking at a sandwich. She listened to the gaggle's conversation purely because there was nothing better to do.   
*I don't really mind being unpopular.* she thought *I wouldn't want to be popular with them. But I hate it when they get me wrong. They call me stupid, and I'm not. I'd like to see them fool the network into giving them a male ID to download clothes with. And they wouldn't know the first thing about repairing their wristWAPs, they hardly know how to turn them on. If they break they just give them back and buy a replacement. Yet somehow they think they're so superior.* She gave up on the sandwich and leant back, rolling her head back to stare at the ceiling. She glanced at the clock and did a lightning quick calculation. *Two hours and thirty four minutes left. An hour and a half of that is Physical Exercise, so I only have to stare at this room for another hour and four minutes. After that I don't have to see this place ever again. Mind you, I do need to finish my microtranciever's timing circuit so I'll have to stop at the tech lab for about an hour after school. So what if it's the last day of term? This is the only place I have access to the equipment.*   
  
The next song had been introduced and was playing. Almost completely left out of the conversation(this time about the VIP club membership fees, and which payment plan was best), Delilah had started absent mindedly singing along. She didn't notice when the conversation died around her, being so involved in the song. She reached a phrase she thought was a bit too boring and ornamented it without thinking, and didn't see that everyone was staring at her. She only realised she was the centre of attention when Kelly said, rather annoyed,   
'Deli, why do you always do that?'   
She started slightly, suddenly aware of the disapproving stares and rolling eyes.   
'What?'   
'It's a perfectly good song, why do you have to ruin it by wailing all over it?'   
'Sorry, I didn't think I was ruining it. I just like it, that's all.'   
'Yeah, well so do we, and you're just making it worse.'   
'Sorry.' she mumbled. There was an unpleasant silence, until Candice, trying to save the moment, asked   
'Deli, why've you got such a weird name? I mean, 'Delilah' - it's not normal, is it?'   
'Dunno.' she said quietly. 'It's just what my mum called me. Dad wanted me to be called Crystal, but mum insisted.'   
'Weird, Crystal's quite a popular name. Thing is, your nickname makes you sound like an Indian take away.'   
'Yeah, it does, doesn't it?' Delilah laughed falsely, hoping the conversation would turn to other topics. She didn't want to talk about her mother. Not her real one. She still tried not to think about her in case she cried, which she knew she had to avoid at all costs. Ga Ga girls are happy. Ga Ga girls do not cry. She had a perfectly good computerised mother, so there was no point in mourning the absense of an inferior human one. Even so, she had to blink away a tear. She remained more or less silent throughout the rest of the break, just listening and eating her lunch. It was her punishment for upsetting the group - she was excluded from the remainder of the conversation. After the bleep went to mark the end of lunch they trooped down to the exercise hall and changed into their white PE uniforms and caps. Most of he girls hated the caps, as they ruined their hair, but it was generally agreed that having their hair ruined by it being exposed to constant movement and sweat was even worse. And sometimes it was fashionable to have closely-braided hair, anyway. Delilah saw that they had skirts today, instead of shorts, which had been the last week's norm. During the next hour and a half, the girls did quite well in avoiding doing and actual excercise themselves, hanging around the edges of the hall watching the boys.   
They had to join in for the final group routine, though.   
'So weird to think this is our last ever lesson.' Delilah commented to Poppy.   
'Yeah, isn't it cool? After today the summer is ours.'   
'Yeah.'   
They finished the lesson with the oath, swearing allegiance to the Globalsoft corporation. Then the computerised voice which had so many times in the past told them that they had five minutes left of break, or which esson they were scheduled to be at next, announced:   
  
'Students of Virtual High, school's out. Get out there and have some fun.'   
  
The whole school reverberated to synchronised cries of 'Hurrah! Hurrah!' as the kids poured out of the building. Delilah went with Kelly and the group out of the school, where Candice and Annelie made their excuses and left them.   
'Shopping!' Kylie squealed gleefully. 'School's out, let's go!' They strode towards the closest shopping centre chatting happily about what purchases they were going to make.   
'I desperately need to do something to my hair.' Delilah said, patting her plain blonde coiffe. 'It was ok for last week, but now I think I need some colour.'   
'Me too.' said Poppy, and most of the others nodded their agreement. Kelly said   
'Hey, why don't we all get something done? I know a great place, I got my streaks done there the other day. I could do with a trim, while you lot get the same thing.'   
Everyone agreed. They linked arms as they made their way down the road, almost completely blocking it for anyone else who might want to pass. In the hairdressing outlet the girls logged in as they sat down in the salon chairs. The weekly selection of available hairdos appeared on the screens inside the styling helmets, spinning gently in thumbnail mode. That week a high ponytail, two styles of bunches, a round and flicked bob were available, all with rainbow streaks. Kelly already had the high ponytail, and Delilah opted to copy her, reasoning that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and Kelly was definitely into flattery. Kylie got the flicked bob, Poppy the round one, and because she'd seen Candice had it, Stacey chose the high bunches. Inside the helmets, lasers cut, robotic arms styled and jets dyed. After selecting the style, the whole process took about half a minute, if the network wasn't too congested. The longest anyone had ever had to wait was 5 minutes, and that was when the whole system had crashed and had to revert to emergency memory banks. The girls were out of the shop within 10 minutes. They spent another half hour or so browsing the shops in that end of town, before deciding to explore the complex at the other end. To get there they went past the school.   
They arrived at the front steps just in time to see a heavily-laden girl in scruffy black clothes trudging down the steps.   
'It's her.' Kylie said quietly. An unpleasant smile grew on Kelly's face. 


	3. I want to break free

Authors note: This is almost song-fic. I don't think I've done too badly, but any improvements you can think of will be gratefully accepted.  


* * *

  
  
  
An ear-splitting whistle made the despised girl jump.   
'Check out the weirdo, girls!' Kylie yelled.   
'Don't your mum download you anything decent to wear?' Kelly inquired, sarcastically.   
'I make my own fashion statements!' she snarled back.   
'What's today's statement then? "Hello, I'm a pathetic ugly little zero"?' asked Poppy.   
Delilah added, slightly pitifully,   
'How will you ever get with one of the boys from the Boy Zone, dressed up like some sort of freak?' After all, everybody wanted a chance at getting a boyfriend... A quiet response of 'yeah!' came from the rest of the group.   
'You're a disgrace to the Ga Ga girls.' Stacey informed her.   
'I ain't no Ga Ga girl!' she yelled back. A chorus off   
'Ooh, alright' with implications of 'keep yer hair on' filled the air.   
'And I'm not interested in the sort of Boyz-r-us, dur-brained Zone clones YOU hang out with!'   
The Ga Gas were struck dumb for a moment. Not interested?!?! How could anyone POSSIBLY be not interested in the Zone Boys? Well that settled it. She was a lesbian. She couldn't possibly not be. But still... Zone Boys! The epitome of male adolesance! Not interested? Never had any luck, more like.   
'You - are such a sad loner.' Poppy said finally.   
'Well, you sure are right about that.' the girl replied, then hurled the worst insult she could think of a Ga Ga girl understanding. The more exotic ones in her vocabulary would probably go straight over their heads. 'Bitch.'   
They drew back as one, clutching their bags to their chests in indignation. They retreated up the school steps in a gaggle, drawing support from each other.   
'She can't do that. She can't say that! She called you a bitch!' Poppy whined. All the others twittered and agreed, including Delilah.   
'That's not right. People like her can't say that.'   
The girl sighed in despair. She didn't want a trophy boyfriend. She didn't want to be a trophy girlfriend. She wanted love - real, genuine love from someone she could talk to openly, on her own level, without any pretence. Someone she wouldn't have to impress. But someone like that would be beyond the reaches of the most thorough dating agency search engine. She hated the things anyway, the one date she had tried, a boy on the other side of the planet, had been an identical copy of every boy in her school. How could she possibly find someone she actually wanted? They, like her, would have to be an outcast, branded a freak.   
'Can ANYBODY find me somebody to love?' she asked out loud. The Ga Gas laughed cruelly. They looked at each other and nodded. Yep, she was about to have another emotional outburst. They stood back, faces clearly saying 'Go on, then. Impress us.'. The girl decided she might as well let them know, it was hardly like she'd have to see them again. This was her last chance to make them SEE, to understand what they were missing with their inablilty to feel. After today they would be shipped off to various sections of the corporate machine to do their bit in destroying the world's soul.   
'Each morning, I get up - I _die_ a little. Can barely stand on my feet - take a look in the mirror,'   
'Yeah, TAKE a look at yourself in the mirror.' they advised her. Kelly made a point of looking long and hard at her outfit. She withered slightly.   
'And CRY.' she offered up a quiet prayer to an entity that she spoke to purely out of habit, with a roll of her eyes. 'Lord, what are you DOING to me?'   
'I've spent all my years in believing _you_, but I just can't get no relief. Can anyone find me someone to _love_?'   
'Somebody to love you? Yeah right!' Kelly yelled from the safety of the top step.   
'He-llo, that is so NOT going to happen.' Delilah said. *Poor thing.* she thought *It can't. No-one would have her.*   
'Stop daydreaming, and get a virtual life!' Poppy intsructed. Best way to get a Zone Boy. Get online, make some friends, make a date.   
*They just don't get it.* the wretched girl thought, but not giving up yet. *I thought I wanted to be one of them for so long. They don't understand what love IS.*   
'I work hard. Every day of my life, I work til I ache my bones.' She showed them the marks on her wrists from the wrist-braces she had to wear to relieve the pain she got from doing her own typed work. Unlike them, she wasn't content to copy and paste from the encyclopedia. She was intelligent, she knew that, but had no outlet for it. She buried herself in her schoolwork, actually trying to understand what she was taught, and not just parrot it. But no-one cared. She remained ignored and shunned.   
'At the end of the day, I take home my broken heart all on my own. I go down on my knees -'   
'Ooh!' a group gasp was unavoidable. On her KNEES? but that was what... what some of the boys talked about, when they were being REALLY rude.   
'And I start to pray.' she said pointedly, glaring at their shocked faces. Prayer? What was that? Well, she was always saying weird stuff, but usually used words they could at least pick apart and try to understand later.   
'Til the tears run down from my eyes. 'Lord, somebody, can't anybody find me somebody to love'? I work hard, dammit! Every day! And I try, and I try, and I try... But _everybody_ wants to put me down -' she glared at the uncomprehending girls as pointedly as she could. *That means YOU, thickos.* 'They say I'm going crazy. They say I've got -'*what did that doctor say?*'- a load of water on my brain,-'*and the teachers, of course. In league with my parents.*'I got no 'common sense', I got nobody left to believe.' She held her hands to her face. *I'm turning into one of them. I'm losing my grip on what I want.*   
'I- I got no feelings, got no rhythm, I just keep losing my beat.'   
'You'll just keep losing, and losing.'*can't do anything else, stupid bitch.* Kelly thought.   
'I'm ok.' she said quietly, to Kelly in particular. *Better than you, anyway.* 'I'm alright. But I ain't gonna face no defeat. I just gotta get out of this prison cell-' she gestured to the school '- some day, I've got to be _free_. Just - find me somebody to love.'   
'Find me somebody to love.' Kelly mimicked, gesturing to the others to join in.   
'Find me somebody to love.' repeated Poppy, getting the idea, followed by Kylie and Delilah, and finally Stacey. 'Find me somebody to love.' It grew into a taunting chant, the poor black-clad girl sank to her knees, battling against their voices with her own surprisingly powerful   
'No, find me, find me, somebody find me... Can anybody find me somebody to love?'   
Her voice finished too loud for them to drown out. The question hung in the air, and the girls finally realised that they didn't know what the hell she was talking about. They stood, foreheads wrinkled with the effort of trying to work it out, until Kelly removed the problem for them.   
'Love.' she snorted. If it doesn't exist, they don't need to worry about it. 'Even if it does exist, you ain't gonna find it. Come on girls, lets go.'   
They climbed down from the steps and strode past the huddled black shape. Delilah bit her lip and hung back slightly.   
'I'll... I'll catch you online later, guys, I've gotta get home. I - said I'd be back soon.'. She pretended to go back up the steps until she knew Kelly and her group were ignoring her, a matter of seconds, then went back to the girl.   
'Look...' she said, gently touching her shoulder. She jumped violently and backed away, ever wary of a Ga Ga seeking her attention. Delilah was surprised to actually see tears starting to trickle down her face. 'Please, don't tell anyone else I said this, but... I think you're kinda cool.'   
'Yeah right.' she replied bitterly.   
'No, I mean it. There's no-one listening.' She heard footsteps approaching, and stood up quickly. 'I'd better go. I'm sorry.'   
As she quickly made her exit, she vaguely heard the words   
'How very touching, young lady. But surely....' drift back to her. That voice sounded dangerous. Mother had been right - that type of person was bad news. The girl was in trouble, for some reason. There had been police sirens approaching. But she had seemed so - somehow - normal. Underneath all the weird stuff, of course. She had said some of the things Delilah thought about all the time, but knew she couldn't get away with saying. Not without trouble, anyway. One does not talk about feelings.  



	4. First day of the summer holiday

  
  
As she wandered onto a nearby moving sidewalk, Delilah wondered about what she was going to do. She couldn't go and catch up with the girls because she'd said she was going home. If she went home, her mother would ask why she wasn't out enjoying herself with her friends. So she decided to go to a small place she knew of that neither would think of looking for her in. It was an open space behind a clump of insurance brokers and repair shops, with grass and a few trees. It was, apparently, public property, and Delilah had discovered it once when she had accompanied her father to get his work computer fixed. She had got so bored in the shop she'd wandered off and found the little picturesque refuge. It was well lit, opening on the side which recieved the most sunlight, and there was a very handy bench underneath a tree.  
It was onto this that Delilah flopped, having had to walk the last couple of blocks to get there. The moving walkways were only installed in the more popular areas of the city. She pulled out her laptop from her bag and opened a small text file labelled 'My stuff'. In it were the rough lyrics of a song.  
  
_

'I don't know what I want  
But I know it's something to do with you  
Cos when you look my way  
It's like a dream come true  
  
Yeah you know you're the only one for me  
When you go...'

_  
'What can I put after that?' she mused quietly. 'When you go, you take a part of me? I know it's with you I have to be? No, they don't really sound right...' She typed them all in and erased them individually.   
'How about... hmm... yeah, that's ok.' She typed in 'That's where I want to be'. Delilah had started this song after she had noticed the formula for the Ga Ga hits a couple of months ago, and thought she could do better. There was, of course, no real person she was reffering to as 'you', but there was always one in every song. She wasn't entirely sure about putting 'true' after 'you', as they rhymed too well, however. Real songs generally put words like 'girl' and 'world' together. The file was coming along slowly, as she had to be careful to hide it. She had a sense of uneasiness about it, something told her she wasn't meant to programme her own music. Otherwise more people would be doing it. But apart from the fact that it was taboo, she didn't see any real reason why she shouldn't. She had a tune for it, too, but had no clue as to how she could notate it. She made do with a wobbly line in a picture file which she kept in the same folder as the words. The line went up when the tune did, and down, but she had some trouble with remembering the length of the notes.  
*Oh yeah, I can get on with that now.* Delilah set to work importing small sections of the picture and putting it under the corresponding words. Normally she didn't have time to do it, as it involved keeping the window open for quite a long time, and she usually only had a few seconds here and there to add or change words for fear of someone reading over her shoulder. Discovery would be... embarrassing. *That looks much better.*  
She hummed it softly to herself, scanning the words in time, and changed 'something to do with' to 'because of'. That made it the right length.  
Suddenly she had an idea for the next verse. Of course, she'd have to change a few bits and make it less depressing, but what that girl had said earlier sounded pretty song-like.  
_

'I work hard, every day of my life  
I work hard just to get close to you  
At the end of each day I take home my broken

_*too heavy*_ lonely heart all on my own'_  
*That's better, own and you... they don't sound the same at all. What about all that 'on my knees' stuff? Couldn't get away with it. Unless...*  
  
_

'I would beg on my knees just to make you stay  
Cos I want you to be mine  
So won't you say you'll be with me  
Until the end of time?'

_  
  
'That's not too bad.' she said, satisfied, and folded her laptop closed.  
*It's getting a bit late* she thought *Suppose I SHOULD get home.*. She slid her computer into her bag and stood up, removed a leaf from her hair and got onto the next shuttle bus home.  
As the door swung open and she hung up her bag, Delilah was greeted by her mother in 'worried and slightly annoyed' mode.  
'Delilah, dear, where have you been? Your friend Kelly IMed me earlier, she wanted to speak with you and said you'd told her you'd gone home. If you were going somewhere else, why didn't you say so?' Delilah felt her heart sink as she tried to think up an explanation. No doubt her physical reactions were being monitored. She decided not to try and think up a cover story, and told the truth as sparsely as she could.  
'I wanted to be on my own for a bit. I didn't want the girls to think it was anything personal, so I said I was going home.'  
'But Delilah sweetie, why didn't you email me? I got so worried when Kelly asked after you, you could have-'  
'No you didn't, you're a machine.' Delilah said bluntly. 'Your databases were alerted to my absence and a little pulse ran along a couple of your circuits to programme you to give me the safety lecture when I got in. You weren't worried, you aren't capable of it.'  
'Delilah!' her father's shocked voice came from the end of the corridor. 'What's come over you? I've never heard you talk to your mother like that before.'  
'Yes.' Delilah said quietly. 'You've never heard me speak to my mother like that before and you never will. That programme is not my mother.'  
'No, but she's the closest thing you're ever going to have, and I won't have you insulting her.'  
'Whatever.' Delilah muttered and went into her room, locking the door behind her.   
'Delilah...'  
'It's alright dear, she's going through a tough stage in her life.'  
'Yes, I suppose you're right. You should know, you have access to that sort of information.' He sighed and rapped his knuckles against Delilah's door.  
'Delilah, sweetie, it's alright.' He recieved no response. 'Look, if you want to be alone for a while that's ok, but dinner's in twenty minutes.' He waited, ear pressed to plastic, for a few more minutes.  
'Thanks, dad.' she said quietly.  
'It's ok. I remember what it's like to be a teenager.'  
Delilah lay back on her bed and let the tears slowly squeeze out of her eyes. Why did she have to go and do something stupid like mentioning her real mother? She sat up slowly and switched on her telewall, and clicked to 'old emails'. There was one which continually had little flashing message attached, informing her that it had now been in her account for over a week, and would she like to delete it? It had actually been there for two years and 11 months. She opened it up and let it play again.   
'Look, Delilah, sorry I can't come to pick you up, I made a really stupid mistake. I'm booked in for my personality dissolution appointment this afternoon and I didn't read my diary this morning. I've emailed your father to come and get you...' Delilah lay back once more and let her mother's last message wash over her. There was an unmistakeable quality about her voice and speech which the best voice simulators couldn't reproduce. She hadn't normally left such long messages for Delilah when she couldn't make something. It was almost as if she'd known it was her last chance to talk to her daughter. Delilah rolled over onto her side, as huge, fat tears started pouring down her cheeks. She always blocked out how much she missed her mother normally, but every now and then she had to let it out. There was so much she would have done with the time she had if she'd only known how limited it was. But as a fourteen year old the future didn't bother her. She had her friends, she had her clothes, she had the latest computer games. Who cares about tomorrow when we have today?   
'...but anyway, I'm sorry darling. I love you.' Delilah lay there, crying quietly into her teddy bear for a few more minues. She considered playing the message again - she longed to hear her mother's voice again, but wasn't sure she'd be able to cope with the emotion of hearing the message again so soon. Instead she closed the window and went to her inbox to deal with her new emails. There were two. Clicking on the first one, Kelly's slightly irate face appeared in a quarter of the screen.   
'Delilah, where the hell are you? Why aren't you replying to my IMs?' She closed the window. She'd reply when she'd re-done her face and worked out a suitaby grovelling apology. The second email was an official Globalsoft announcement. She opened it, interested to see if there were any particularly good offers on. It was addressed 'all consumers planetwide'. It opened:  
'Dear everybody in the world. Get online you pleasure-seekers, and download the Killer Queen!' and continued along those lines, finishing with a friendly little reminder that 'Globalsoft(c) loves you.'. Delilah scanned the new products on offer, didn't see anything special, and shut down the screen. She looked at the time, and, seeing that she had five minutes til she was meant to be at the dinner table, unlocked her door and went into the bathroom, where she washed her face to remove the evidence that she'd been crying and re-applied her make-up.  
As she sat down at the table, Will was excitedly explaining to Dad how he'd beaten the level of some game which he'd been trying to win for days.  
*Sometimes I feel like I don't belong in this family. My dad's a music progrmmer, my mother's a hologram and my brother... well, he's a boy.*  
'Mum...' she said quietly.  
'Yes dear?'  
'I'm sorry 'bout earlier. I don't know what came over me.'*Why I'm apologising to a computer programme is beyond me, but it keeps Dad happy.*   
'That's alright dear. We'll forget about it. It's tough being a teenager, and it's only natural to take it out on your parents.' Delilah felt like pointing out a few things, but common decency and the fact that her father was listening forbade her. One, the hologram had no idea what it was like to be a teenager. Two, she was not Delilah's 'parent'. And three, she had no right to talk about what was and wasn't natural.  
'I know what's wrong with her.' Will said. 'She's acting all weird cos all her friends have got boyfriends and she hasn't.'  
'Oi, shut up, you.' Delilah replied, light-heartedly throwing a french fry at him.  
'What? It's true!' he laughed, throwing three back at her.  
'Is not.' she muttered, picking one of the said fries up and eating it. 'I can live without one. They're more trouble than their worth, at least according to Kelly.'   
'And she should know, should she?' her dad asked, with an amused smile.  
'Well, so far her track record's Dwayne, Shane, Adam and her most recent was Justin. But he stranded her at the arcade, so I think she's through with him.' Will laughed and Dad said, pointing his plastic fork at her while he finished his mouthful,  
'Ah now, you see, that's taking it to extremes. What you have to do-' he gestured with both hands, slicing up the air '- is strike the balance between too many and too few.'  
'Yep. Don't worry, I'm not fighting them off.' A thought suddenly occured to her. 'Dad, you know like with your programming...'  
'Yes Deli, I programme music.' she made a face.  
'You didn't let me finish. Do you ever get to see the finished product before it's released?'  
'Well, if I want to I'm allowed.'  
'Can I show you something then?'  
'Sure.' he said, carefully. There wasn't much she could be wanting to show him that might not be considered illegal in some form or other, if it was related to his job. And he would hate to see his daughter arrested. But then again, knowing Delilah, it could be something completely unrelated that had just crossed her mind. 'If you want to.' She stood up, grabbed a slurp of her Sprite and scampered into the hall to where she'd left her bag. She grabbed her lap-top and quickly copied 'My stuff.txt' onto a floppy. She flopped back down into her seat, simultaneously holding out the disk to her father.  
'So what is it?' he asked, interested. What could she possibly want to give him on a disk? Delilah dropped her bombshell.  
'It's a song. I thought you'd be the best one to tell me if it's any good.'  
*And she looks so innocent. Where did I go wrong?*  
'You... did this yourself, did you?'  
'Yeah. I mean, it's probably not all that brilliant, but I figured it wasn't too bad.'  
*You're digging yourself so deep, my little girl, and you don't even know it. Why did you have to be creative?* He glanced up to the hologram in the corner. Although she showed no outward signs, he knew she was recording everything, and was probably already emailling it to Globalsoft security. He would have to add the file she had given him to the report, too avoid arrest himself. They would find Delilah guilty of writing music illegally, and then the police would come and take his little princess away. And there was nothing he could do about it.  
'Yes, I'll take a look at it for you.' he said, quietly taking the disk from her. After a slight pause he added 'You know, you really do take a lot after your mother.' 


	5. Are there any more budding Bohemians in ...

Authors' note - the 'credit' mentioned is worth about 10p, or 15 US cents. The virtual world is what I remember of Worlds3D, embellished a bit, a brilliant 3D chatroom if your computer has the memory to run it. Mine doesn't, hence 'what I remember'.  


* * *

  
The next morning Delilah was woken by the chimes, as usual. They were accompanied by a screen-wide visual of the huge yellow ball of the sun rising through a red sky. She yawned and stretched, looking through the window before morning exercises started. Unlike the majority of the apartments, her family's had real plastiglass windows that looked out of the building. They had priority housing, due to Delilah's father's prestigious position in Music Programming. Delilah looked out onto the real world, not a very realistic screen showing an image of it, like everybody further inside the building. A plastic and metal sculpture outside with a mutitude of miniature green shade-plates waved in a nonexistant breeze. The dual-purpose plates contained chemical reactants which recycled the carbon dioxide in the air into breathable oxygen. The residual carbon was collected at the base of the hollow trunk, and sent through a system of underground pipes to the power station where it was burnt effieciently to create electricity.  
*It's a beautiful day, the sun is shining, I feel good... and I think I'll write that down before I forget it. Those words work nicely together.* she went to grab her laptop, but as she flippped it open the image on her screen changed to an androgynous CG teenager in the starting position of the morning warmup. *Damn. Oh well, I'll do it later.*  
She slithered out of bed and started the warmup, accompanied by the figure on her wall. After five minutes of stretching various parts of her body - mainly her back and legs - she changed out of her pearly-white PVC pyjamas into her blue outfit. She sat back down on her bed to check her email. Amongst the junkmail was one addressed to her whole group, from Poppy. She deleted the others, then opened it.   
  
'Hey guys, just to confirm and remind anyone who forgot yesterday's conversation, we're meeting at the VR arcade at eleven. Oh, and Delilah, if you haven't completely cut yourself off from the world, we can go on a boy hunt for you. See y'all then.'  
  
'Eleven.' Delilah muttered quietly, looking at the time, then went into the kitchen to get breakfast.  
'Will!' she whined as her brother snatched the last of the Sugar Snaps. He stuck his tongue out at her. 'You know those are my favourites!'  
'So have toast. You finished the last box.'  
'Did not.'  
'Did so, you always do. It's my turn.'  
'You know, I really hate you sometimes.'  
'Children, please!' Their father interrupted. 'Can't you two just get along for once without bickering?'  
'We're siblings...' Delilah muttered, punching in the code for lightly buttered toast - 'We're meant to hate each other.'  
'Well kindly do it away from me. I'm under a lot of pressure right now.'  
'S'alright dad, we don't mean it.' Delilah said, sitting down at the table. 'Me and the girls are going out to the VR arcade later, so I'll be out for most of the day.'  
'Great. That's what you should be doing, going out and having fun.'*If only I could warn you, if only I could save you. Get out of the house, Delilah. Get out and stay out and you might survive.*  
'Hey, that's not fair!' Will said. 'We're going there too, I don't want to go with my sister!'  
'Oh for goodness' sake Will, you don't have to arrive with her. You can always ignore each other if you DO meet.' Will muttered darkly into his cereal, and Delilah munched quietly on her toast. It didn't really matter to her whether or not she saw her brother in public.  
'What was that?' her father snapped, in response to Will's growling.  
'You're not my real dad.' He replied. 'They mixed up the invitrotubes at the hospital when I was concieved. My real dad would never be this mean.' The table went silent.   
'Go to your room, and stay there. I will not have you talking to me like that.' Their father said quietly. Will stood up lankily and slouched back to his room, still complaining about how unfair it al was under his breath. 'And I'm turning your comuter off, so don't even think about it.' A loud, over dramatised groan came from behind his door. Delilah looked down onto her plate and continued eating, not wanting to get involved in case the same thing happened to her. Fortunately, her father did not see it as her fault, so said   
'Well, at least that's one less thing you need to worry about.'  
'What do you mean?' Delilah asked innocently. Her father hesitated for a second. Did she somehow know what he'd had to do, last last night? Mailing her little creation to police headquarters, reporting another budding Bohemian? No, she couldn't possibly have found out.  
'You don't need to worry about bumping into Will at the VRcade.'  
'Oh, right.' Delilah finished one peice of toast. 'Doesn't really bother me, anyway.'  
'No? It bothers most girls.' Delilah stiffened. Was she not, then, conforming?  
'I was just being nice...' she muttered 'It'd be SO embarrassing if we were both there.'  
'Ah, well that's my girl. Always nice to everybody.'  
'Not everybody. I CAN'T be nice to weirdos.'  
*Good, keep saying things like that. Be as normal as possible. Maybe, then, when they look at your character they'll let you off lightly. You're not a punk in your behavior, and it's only one song, but considering your mother....*  
'How are your funds?'  
'Erm...' Delilah said, opening and quickly typing in her wristWAP, 'I got 153 credits.'  
'You'll need more than that if you're going out, I'll transfer you another 500. Don't spend it all at once.' Delilah's eyebrows rose.  
'Five hundred, dad, are you sure?'  
'Of course, dear.' *maybe you'll be able to spend it on something sensible before they freeze your account.* 'Just don't come to me tomorrow begging for more.'  
'Don't worry dad, that'll probably last me til next week.'   
'Nah, you're a teenager. You'll have spent it before you realise it's gone. When did you arrange to meet up?'  
'Eleven.'  
'Better get going then. Oh, and Delilah...' for a second he almost made himself warn her, but thinking of the penalty, cowed out. 'Don't worry about getting back early.' *It's the least I can do.* 'Enjoy being young and free.'  
'You can be really weird sometimes, dad, you know that? But I love you anyway.' Delilah stooped to give him a brief kiss on the cheek, before grabbing her mostly empty(but very fashionable) handbag and touching up her makeup.  
'Of course you do.' he replied as she preened in the mirror 'I just gave you money.' Delilah rolled her eyes.  
'Aww, Dad!'  
'What? It's only human nature.'  
'You know I'm not that...' She couldn't find a word to describe the state she was not. She knew it was the same state almost every other Ga Ga girl was, but there just wasn't a name for it in her vocabulary. 'That... well I'm not like that. Ya know I love you anyway, Daddy.'  
'Have fun!' he shouted after her as she walked down the hallway, and out of the apartment, stopping only to wave and yell   
'Don't worry, I'll be fine!' after herself.  
  
'I've scheduled a slot for the inspectors to come by. Delilah ought to be home by then, and if not they'll stay until she is.' The holographic woman fizzed into appearance to say.  
'Yes.' the girl's father replied, sadly.  
'You are showing signs of agitation. Explain.'  
'I just can't believe it.' he sighed, holding his head in his hands and staring into his coffee. 'My little girl's a rebel. She never showed any signs of this when she was a child.'  
'A late developer. She is 80% her mother's DNA. It therefore stands to reason that her behavioral patterns are similar.'   
'And there's nothing wrong with Will. Maybe I should have insisted that both be 50/50 before they were created... but their mother was so persuasive...'  
'The responsibility does not lie with you. According to my calculations, these recent changes are not a direct consequence of any single action of yours. Therefore you are not to blame. Do not distress yourself.'  
'Oh, it's just the human element, I guess.' he said resignedly. 'I feel protective towards her, despite the fact that she's broken the law. What will happen to her?'  
'If she is assessed to have acted with full knowledge, she will be arrested and removed. If she is ignorant of her crime she may be let off with a warning. Taking her DNA into account, however, this is not likely.'  
'I suppose that's some comfort. I don't think she did know what she was doing, though. Otherwise she wouldn't have given it to me, would she?'  
'It is possible that she believed you would not report her. All possibilities must be investigated.'  
'Yes, I know you're right.' he said, going to and switching on his computer console. 'Anyway, this music doesn't supervise it's own programming.'  
  
As Delilah stepped off the walkway outside VRcade, she saw that Kelly and Kylie were waiting for her.   
'Hi!' she greeted them cheerfully. 'Poppy and Stacey not here yet?'  
'No.' they said together.   
'Delilah, we need to talk to you.' Kylie said, quietly.   
'Oh? What about?' Delilah felt a sense of unease settle on her. It had to be about yesterday. But whether they were going to challenge her about going off without them, or not telling them where she'd gone, she didn't know.  
'What did you say to the freak after we'd gone?' Kelly demanded.  
'What?'  
'Annelie saw you. She came and told us after.' Kylie explained.  
'Oh, that.' Delilah said lightly, trying to think up a decent excuse for deigning to grace the lowly black-clad freak with her attention. She could hardly say what she really said... or could she? Maybe there was one way of putting it...   
'I just told her exactly what I think of her.' she said levelly. *And that's the truth.* Both girls smiled knowingly. Delilah was relieved. As far as they were concerned, she had insulted the girl she actually admired. Of course, it would never occur to them that what Delilah thought of her might not be the same as what they did, but that didn't matter right now. What mattered was that they thought she was loyal to the group and accepted her.  
'Oh look, there they are!' Delilah said, spotting Poppy and Stacey's hairdos throught the crowd.  
'Hi!' they giggled as they formed a circe with the other 3. 'had to get popcorn, and the EFTPOS thingy was playing up.' Stacey pouted.  
'Turned out she'd stuck her wrist in the wrong way round.' Poppy giggled.  
'How did you manage to... no, don't tell me.' Delilah started to ask, bemused at how it was physically possible to put the wrist unit and thumbpad into the ergonomic scanner incorrectly, but decided not to. It made her mind boggle. But then again, if it was stupid and could be done, chances were that Stacey or Poppy had done it.  
'Anyway, we're here now!' Stacey proclaimed. The girls joined the growing queue for the virtual reality consoles. These consisted of fleximould chairs, designed to accomodate every contour of every body with maximum comfort, navigating gloves and, of course, the helmets. These cutting-edge pieces of technology probed directly into the visual and aural cortexes of the brain, creating a direct link to the central computer and convincing the wearer that they are in a virtually creating world, eliminating the need for unconvincing screens or bulky goggles. Accidents were very rare, and victims usually recovered almost all of their brain functions eventually.   
The girls managed to get 5 seats in a row, after passing up two clumps of 2 and 3. Delilah settled into her seat, feeling it shift and re-shape underneath and around her. She flexed her fingers before sliding them into the gloves, and waited for the helmet to descend. In the meantime, she glanced at Poppy, who stuck her tongue out at her and continued her conversation with Stacey. She did feel a little left out of the group. It seemed like she wasn't very important to them - after all, they didn't raise much of a fuss when she'd gone off yesterday. It was something to do with the numbers, probably. There was Kelly and Kylie, Candice, Melanie and Annelie, Stacey and Poppy, and then Delilah, who just had to try and fit in wherever possible. It made partner work unpleasant at cyberschool, she didn't have anyone to go with - Melanie was only a fringe member, more closely involved with another group. But she told herself it didn't really matter. They were her friends, right? It didn't matter if they were an odd number. Somebody had to be left out, it was just luck that it was her.   
The slight buzz of a motor indicated the lowering of the helmets. Delilah shut her eyes as it settled around the crown of her head, not liking the experience of her field of vision fading to black artificially. She felt a cool spray, and then the odd sensation of her body going numb as it was paralysed, switching her motor functions to her avatar. When she told them to open again, she was in a large entrance hall, decorated electric blue, with 3D advertisements rotating slowly in mid-air. Along the walls were floor-to-headheight animated links to games, each displaying how much each would cost to play, the current jackpot and how many people were currently playing. There were also doors to other rooms, and teleport pads to other 'worlds'. When Delilah entered the world, a slightly pixelated, simplified version of Kelly was already standing there. As she watched, Kylie, Poppy and after a pause, Stacey popped into existance next to her. At that moment, all they could see was the venue and each other, as they had linked together as a group. They all took the time to adjust their viewing parameters, so that they could see all other players in their centre and all those on their buddy lists. It wasn't possible to play with all players visible, although that was an option, as the place would be completely filled with avatars cross-sectioning each other and it would be impossible to see any individual faces. Delilah switched to 'overhead' mode, for a larger view. The only mildly disconcerting thing about it was that she could see the top of her own head.  
'So, where do you guys wanna go?' came a sightly tinny version of Kylie's voice, in perfect sync with her avatar's mouth.  
'Skyworld?' suggested Delilah. 'There's a new game where you have to ride a pegasus round a maze, and you have to avoid flame throwers but...'  
'Ooh no, don't tell me how to do it!' squeaked Poppy. 'It sounds fun, let's go!'  
'Wait a second, I want another go at 'Poing!'.' complained Kylie. 'It's closer, anyway.'. Before a proper argument could start, Kelly said  
'Well I want a go on 'House of the dead - Diamond'.', which pretty much settled the matter. They trouped with synchronised legs, like little anime schoolgirls, to the Horror World door. As it opened, with a creaking sound effect, they were greeted by the 'Tina' avatar, saying  
'Welcome to the Horror World - guaranteed to send shivers up your spine!' and a couple of cartoon bats which fluttered upwards out of the doorframe and disappeared.  
The girls spent the next hour or so, and between them about 150 credits, slashing up zombies, staking vampires and hacking weird water-beasts' heads off. After that they moved onto the point-earning games, where Delilah won 720 points for lining up rows of small coloured balls and blasting them out of existance, and another 380 for building a 11-layer pyramid out of single pyramids with multicoloured sides that had to be matched up.  
'Oh yeah, I'm on a roll!' she said happily, as she beat level 6 of 3D Tetris. Stacey was, by this point, watching her play rather than attempt it herself. Poppy was losing all her credit attempting to beat level 3. Stacey, having a few more grains of intelligence than her, had decided to stop playng a game she was repeatedly losing, and just watched instead. Delilah had just manouveured a tricky block of five squares into place, completing the level, when a voice announced, at the same time as flashing white words,  
  
'You have reached today's limit for 3D Tetris. Why not try some of our other games on offer? In this world alone there are over 500, and -'   
  
She clicked on the 'finish game' button, silencing the voice and removing both the 3d structure and the words.  
'Dammit, I guess I'll have to have a go on -'  
'Ok, I'm losing all my money here, the Jupiter Coaster's going in three minutes, so let's go on that.' said a slightly sulky Kylie, appearing out of nowhere at Delilah's left shoulder.  
'But I was-'  
'Oh come on Delilah, everyone else wants to go, don't we?' Kelly appeared in front of Delilah, gesturing towards Stacey and Poppy.  
'Yeah, I guess...' Stacey muttered quietly.  
'Poppy?' she asked the motionless pink figure. Her eyes had gone to screensaver mode, showing only the spinning Globalsoft logo where the iris should have been. 'Hey! Poppy!' The avatar blinked, and the eyes returned to uniform cyber brown.  
'Yes?'  
'We're all going on Jupiter Coaster. Come on.'  
'But I'm in the middle of a game...'  
'So shut it down. You're losing anyway, aren't you?' Judging from her lack of response, Kelly guessed that she was right. 'Come on Delilah, don't be such a spoilsport. It'll be fun.'  
'Alright, then.' Delilah said, bowing under group pressure. Well, Kelly and Kylie pressure. Stacey and Poppy would probably do just about anything they told them to. *After all, it's not fair of me to hold up the group.* 'I'm just about done here, anyway.'.  
'Ok, I've got it marked, 'port to me.' Kylie said, before disappearing. The other girls pulled down their 'Teleport to...' menus and clicked onto her. For a moment Delilah thought of going off somewhere else on her own, just to prove that she could, but decided not to. There was no point, and Jupiter Coaster _was_ a good ride, after all.  
For the next hour the girls convinced their brains that their bodies were being hurled through 360 degrees at varying speeds and in a selection of unlikely surroundings. They stopped for lunch at the designated time. As far as they were concerned, they ordered and paid for their food and it appeared, floating in the air in front of them. In the real world, data was extracted from their wrist units and helmets by the catering division of the corporation. Flavourless masses of vitamins and nutrients were distributed to the individual seats by transporter, and the motor functions returned to the arms, jaw and throat to allow the customer to physically eat. The motions were synchronised with their avatar's, to ensure maximum comfort. Flavour was added by artificial nerve stimulation, by the main computers, so that no unpleasant after tastes could linger in the mouth.   
During the afternoon they watched a movie, played some more games and generally spent money on mental stimulation. Throughout their time there, Poppy tried several times, mostly unsuccessfully, to introduce Delilah to a succession of Zone Boys. Eventually, as they went to the bowling alley, she managed to get them an aisle next to a group of 5 clones. Poppy practically vibrated with excitement. Their names logged in alphabetically, putting Delilah first and Stacey last. Stacey whined loudly about always being last, prompting Kylie to say   
'Oh, don't complain. At least your name's not Zara.'  
'No-one's called Zara.' Poppy scoffed.  
'Yeah they are.' Kylie countered. 'It's one of last year's names. But it's right down the bottom of the menu, so not many kids are called it.'  
Delilah chose her ball from the thumbnail menu that popped up next to the scoreboard. She plucked it out of the air where it appeared and stood at the end of the aisle, swinging her arm back, ready to throw. She'd turned her tragectory lines off, which automatically doubled her score as it was unaided. The flashing pink dots only got on her nerves, anyway. She released her arm, swinging the ball through in a smooth curve that landed on the virtual alley's surface with a small 'thwock' sound effect and finished at the centre pin. The score screen showed a bird's eye view of the hit, repeated in slow motion. Seven pins went down. An eighth tottered backwards and forwards, but stayed upright. She pouted and clicked for her ball again. Her second throw cleared two more pins. A muted clapping sound effect behind her signified the group's approval. She returned to her seat as Kelly stood up to take her turn. Poppy nudged her sharply in the side to get her attention.   
'That boy's looking at you!' she hissed.  
'Which one?' she asked quietly, but not in a private whisper. The same rule that applied at school applied everywhere - if it's worth saying, it's worth overhearing. If 'that boy' hadn't been looking at them before, it was very likely that he now was. He was. He nudged his friend and whispered something. Delilah and Poppy pretended to look away - another rule. Never look interested and always try to avoid making the first move. As Kelly whooped at her half-strike, the clone who had been whispered to stood up and came towards them. Poppy and Delilah, again, pretended not to notice.  
'Oi, right...' he said. The girls slowly turned their heads, careful not to make him feel comfortable.   
'Yeah, what?' Poppy asked for Delilah.  
'My mate over there fancies your friend, she wanna go out wiv'im?' Poppy looked expectantly at Delilah, who was doing the obligatory sizing up of the other party. He looked no different to any other guy who'd ever asked her out, so why not? She nodded nonchalently at her speaking representative who lazily replied  
'Yeah, alright.'  
'Right.' He went back to his group.  
'Did you see that?' Kylie said, indignantly 'I got that pin down and it stuck halfway. It's well out of order.'  
'Well did you see that? We just got Deli a boyfriend.' Delilah's simulated face flushed prettily.  
'Hardly a boyfriend, I just said I'd go out with him.' she mumbled.  
'I quite fancy his mate.' Kylie declared.  
'But what about Justin?' Stacey asked, slightly bemused.  
'Dumped.' Kylie replied shortly. 'I'm through with him and told him so last night.'  
The clone who'd got his friend to ask Delilah out for him smiled and winked at her. Her eyebrows rose in surprise when he opened a private whisper to her.  
_Hi_ After an indecisive pause, Delilah replied. This was breaking the unwritten rules, contact before introduction.  
_Hi  
I'm Mark. What's your name?  
Delilah...  
Cool name.  
It's not my fault, it's what my mum called me.  
No, it is a cool name. I wish I had an interesting name._  
  
In the real world, two government agents had been dispatched to find the source of an alarming conversation being monitored in the VRcade sector UK23/06. They marched down the aisles of paralysed teenage bodies, looking for the console with the red warning light.  
  
_You do?  
Yeah. I bet you're the only Delilah in your class. There's six Marks in mine.  
At least it's normal.  
I don't like normal._  
'Your go, Kylie.' she said absently, out loud.  
_So what do you like?  
I'm not sure I can trust you enough to tell you yet.  
What do you mean?  
They don't like it. It's... well, there's nothing wrong with it really, but they seem to think - I'd have to show you. It's to do with your name. Would you come with me?  
Come where?  
It's a secret place. You can't tell anyone where it is, but I think you need to-_ His avatar disappeared and the conversation box turned grey.  
_Hello?_ She said, slightly worried. It wasn't right for people to log out in the middle of a game.  
_Mark?_ there was no response. _Are you ok? Who don't like it? What is it they don't like?_  
  
The officers had found the errant user. The helmet was ripped off his head, and before he could come to his senses he was pulled out of his seat and dragged out of the building. They'd had their eyes on this one for a while - and now they had him. There was one less budding Bohemian in a growing number to worry about.  
  
'What happened?' she asked out loud.  
'What?'  
'He just disappeared.'  
'Oh, him.' Mark's friend, now talking to Kylie, replied. 'Probably crashed. He always does.'  
'Oh, right.' Delilah said, slightly confused. *He must have been logged in at home, then. He should be back on soon, then, once he's rebooted.*  
He didn't return. But by the time he'd been gone long enough for anyone to worry, the arcade had done it's job of distracting them into a euphoria of competitive bowling.  
By the time they decided to leave, there had still been no sign of Delilah's date but Kylie had acquired a new boyfriend(by the name of Luke), so no-one noticed. As they left, via the entrance hall, they went to the prize kiosks to trade their game-earned points into little plastic trinkets. Delilah was the only one to be able to choose one from the 1000-1500 point range. Out of the items that cirled in front of her, including several pieces of cheap jewelry and cyber celebrity holograms, she chose a mini keyring torch. She didn't really know why she chose it, except that it was the most useful-looking thing on display. It completely failed to strike her as odd that she had chosen something on it's practicality value when she had been conditioned her entire life to value things on appearance. The blurb that flashed up next to the spinning hologram promised that the torch would last for up to 3 months' continuous use, and that if she wanted to, she could trade in her remaining 100 points for a spare battery. She did, seeing as they wouldn't be carried over to her next visit. As they exited through the main doors, displaying a banner asking them to return soon, they entered a black filled void. Again, Delilah closed her eyes to smooth the transition between virtual and real world. When she opened them again, she was back in the physical VRcade hall, waiting for the sensation to return to her body. Her prize was recorded in her account details, ready to be collected when she could move her arm enough to log in to the matter transporter unit. A light strain of directionless music played while medicinal sprays and the chair's massage function worked to bring back the circulation to her arms and legs - a process which had actually begun as soon as Kelly had notified the management that they were preparing to log out. Delilah tuned herself out, letting her brain tick over in neutral and her mind go blank, as she had learnt to do at a very early age. There had been a time when she would think about things in these empty moments, but that had led to discontentment and frustration and the child psychologist her parents had consulted had put her on a corrective programme to blank out the thoughts when they came. Now she could stop herself thinking whenever she needed to, and join the rest of the kids in their blind acceptance of whatever Globalsoft(c) decided to market at them.  
When she had full control of her body, just in case she hadn't noticed, a green light lit up and a voice announced  
  
'Complete control of bodily functions has now been restored. You may now leave your seat. Please come again.'  
  
She leaned forwards and placed her wrist unit and thumbpad on the reader on the transporter-plate and waited a few seconds for her torch to materialise. It was a bit smaller than advertised. As she stood up, she hooked it onto the zip of her bag. The girls made their way to the entrance of the nearest mall, dragging Luke in tow, where they just sat on the edge of a decorative fountain for the rest of the aftrnoon. He was basically the same in real life as he had been in the arcade, just spottier. They spent about an hour sitting there, doing nothing but give passing people dirty looks and a little idle flirting with the boy they'd managed to pick up, before deciding they were all bored and went home.  
  
Delilah's father drummed his fingers on the table agitatedly. The police investigator and his two officers had been there for almost an hour, since Delilah had logged out of VRCade. They could only wait for an hour for her to return - they had a pretty tight schedule to keep, with all the rebellious kids popping up everywhere. They were getting harder and harder to keep track of and control.  
*Just a few more minutes, Delilah. A few more minutes and they'll have to go.* He had made up his mind. He would overcome his fear. If Delilah managed to avoid the officers tonight, he would warn her and tell her to leave, no matter what they would do to him. *You're still my little girl, dammit! They can't have you!* He had already been questioned, himself, and told them everything he could - which wasn't much. Only that she had given him the song and said she'd written it herself. He'd asked them to consider her character, and that she might have gained undue influence from the girl in her class they'd arrested the day before or even possibly had help. He'd though he'd done everything he could but was now determined to do more.  
  
Rather than going straight home, Delilah stopped off at the nearest fast food joint. The chain had been called McDonalds before it had been absorbed by Globalsoft. She ordered GaGa meal 1 from the Express Express queue(just like the Express line, but faster) and decided to eat walking, rather than sitting down, because she was on her own and didn't want to look like a loner. At some point in the middle of the 22nd century, world obesity and heart disease rates had got so bad that someone had had the revolutionary realisation that people didn't want to eat healthy food because, quite frankly, it tasted of cardboard, no matter what packaging it was put in. So, rather than trying to make healthy food appealing, they realised that they had to make appealing food healthy. The idea was, naturally, stolen by Globalsoft(c) and applied to the recently acquired McDonalds chain, to huge success - and the techniques for altering the DNA of and injecting vitamins and minerals and other such nutritious stuff into junkfood were refined for the next 200 years, until a Big Mac was actually considered by all to be a well-rounded meal. Then the health officers knew they had got it right. That is why, in this day of computer generated perfect models, although the kids eat nothing but junk food, they all have disgustingly perfect bodies.  
  
He was now counting down the minutes on his watch. Five minutes. Four minutes. Three. Two.   
*Come on, Deli. Just stay away for a little while longer...* The chief investigator broke in on his thoughts.  
'Mr Forbes, we may need to come bach tomorrow.'  
  
Delilah binned her wrappings at the corner of the block. She still hadn't finished her drink as she stepped into the lift to get to her floor. She left the half-full coke in the litter disposal unit outside the lift doors before walking the short distance to her door, and punched in the code to unlock it.  
  
Her father started to seriously hope. But as he stood up to show them out, he heard the door unlock, and felt his heart sink as his daughter's voice rang out down the corridor, loud and clear.  
'Hi dad! I'm home!'  
  
  


* * *

  
TBC. And yes, I know this one took weeks to get posted. It took weeks to write. 


	6. And another one bites the dust?

Delilah dumped her stuff and went into the living room, and stopped mid-stride when she saw who was there.  
'Oh, I'm sorry...' she said, voice trailing off as she noticed the uniforms. 'Didn't know you had visitors...'  
'Well actually Delilah -' her father took a deep breath and lowered his head - 'They're here to see you.'  
'Oh?' she said slowly. 'What about?'  
'Please, sit down.' the head drone said politely, indicating a chair which one of his minions pulled out. 'Now, Delilah, I'll come straight to the point. We've read the song your father sent us, and we couldn't find an exact match to anything in the Ga Ga hits database. Perhaps you would like to explain that, hmm?'  
'You mean my song?'  
'Did you do it yourself?'  
'Well... yes, is there a problem with it...?' she trailed off, looking for some sign of emotion in any of the faces surrounding her, but the only one she found was unhideable guilt in her father's. She looked at him questioningly, trying to work out why he would be looking so wretched, but he just shook his head and dropped it into his hands.  
'What did you mean by the words 'Coz when you look my way it's like a dream come true?'' the austere looking inspector asked. 'To whom were you referring?'  
'No-one.' Delilah replied, slightly mystified. 'But there's always a 'you' in songs, so I thought...'  
'You thought you'd copy them?' he just about gave her time to nod her head before ploughing on 'What about these dreams? They must be pretty intense if you're comparing them to a mythical person.'  
'What dreams?' Delilah asked, still confused by the whole confrontation. 'I didn't have any sort of... Oh. No, that's just a phrase they use a lot.'  
'Who? Where?'  
'In songs. It's in most of them, they say 'like a dream come true'. I don't know what it means.'   
'Mm hmm. And you had no help at all with this little... creation?'  
'No, I did it myself.' The inspector leant forward and rested on his arm, placed right next to her on the table not quite invading her personal space, but nearly.  
'Delilah - You are aware that music other than that programmed by the Globalsoft(c) corporation is illegal, aren't you?'  
Delilah's eyes grew round and her mouth slowly dropped open.  
'No...' she whispered 'No, I had absolutely no idea...' She turned round to her father and asked imploringly  
'Dad, am I in trouble?' It almost broke his heart to hear her innocent plea. His little girl, who'd had no idea what she was doing when she typed in those words. He was still trying to think of a way to break the confirmation to her when the inspector surprised them both.  
'No, not necessarily.'  
'What?' he asked, shocked at the unexpected reprieve.  
'Well, Mr Forbes, it would appear that your daughter acted without full appreciation of what she was doing. If that is the case -' he stood up straight again '- then we can let her off with a warning.'  
'C-can you?' her father stuttered in his relief. 'That would be incredibly generous of you, and I'm sure she won't do it again, will you Delilah?'  
'No, I didn't know it was illegal. I really had no idea.' Inspector Ajax opened up his wristWAP and tapped in an access code. It bleeped quietly. He frowned, and tried again. The same insistent little bleep made the lines on his forehead deeper, and he held it closer to his face as he typed - no, punched - the number in again. His face lit up faintly red with the warning that appeared on the screen.  
'Hm. Network congested.' He closed the flap and stood straight. 'No matter. I'll process it in person when we return to the station.'  
Delilah sat in a bit of a daze. There were thousands of questions spinning around inside her head, trying to get her attention. Why were they there? Why was this so important? What had happened to that boy at the arcade? But most of all, why was writing music illegal? That made no sense. Surely it didn't hurt anyone?  
As the police officers prepared to leave, the inspector bent down to Delilah, putting his hand on her shoulder, saying  
'Now, I can trust you not to do anything silly like that again, can't I, Delilah?' His hand stayed there slightly too long for comfort, then slid down her shoulder blade as he stepped away. From her vantage point, Delilah couldn't see her father bunching his fist below the table. There was definately something about this man that made her uncomfortable, but her inquisitive mind overrode the feeling.   
'I'll email you tomorrow, Mr Forbes, just to let you know if any punishment' he seemed to pause on the word, enjoying it too much, 'is required.'.  
'Why?' Delilah's quiet, thoughtful voice interrupted his train of thought.  
'Why what, my dear?' Delilah's father clenched his jaw, then forced it to relax again. He must not give them any unusual behavior to analyse and twist into evidence. But that man was far too close to his daughter, in his opinion.  
'Why is it illegal to write music? I mean, it doesn't hurt anyone.' The drones turned round, synchronised, and raised their lasers to shoot. The inspector waved them down. No, he'd much rather take this girl into custody conscious. Interrogation could prove... enjoyable. But he would need an official warrant to arrest her, and he couldn't get one because of the network... damn, damn, damn. Oh well. No matter. The father was a good citizen. Nice and easy to manipulate.  
'Oh dear.' he replied softly, remorse completely absent from his voice. 'It would appear that we underestimated you, Delilah.' He was starting to enjoy the feel of her name. 'What on Mall are we to do with you? Mr Forbes, you will keep your daughter here overnight, won't you? I fear I shall have to take her in for questioning.' The prospect of the helpless schoolgirl under his control brought the ghost of a smile to his face. 'I know you will be careful not to let her run off before I return, won't you? After all, the penalty for perverting the course of justice...' he allowed himself a slight smirk as he saw the man grow pale before him. 'You'll take good care of her. Before she is turned over to my... custody, in the morning.'  
'Yes.' he said morosely. 'I'll... keep a close eye on her.'  
.'Good man.' the inspector said patronisingly. 'I'll see you tomorrow, my dear.' he directed at Delilah, before sweeping out of the small apartment, robots in tow.  
  
'Computer.' Mr Forbes said in a strained, close to cracking voice. 'Exit programme HoloWife '02.'  
'Are you sure you want to exit this programme?' the hologramme asked pleasantly.  
'Yes.' he hissed. As soon as the hologramme winked out of existance, and to his daughter's extreme surprise, he smashed his fist into the nearest wall and screamed.  
'Dad!' she rose to her feet, knocking her chair over backwards in her haste to reach him and prevent him from any further self-injury.  
'You stupid, stupid, STUPID girl!' he howled, then sank into the chair she hastily grabbed for him with a sob. 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry my darling, it's not your fault.'  
'Dad, what the hell is going on?' For the first time Delilah displayed her mother's temper. 'I didn't go out today expecting to come home to a flat full of policemen trying to touch me up and arrest me for a song! Will you just tell me what's going on?'  
'You're so like your mother. You have no idea...' Delilah slumped slightly. Taking her father's bruised hand in hers, she asked   
'What does any of this have to do with her?' he laughed hollowly.   
'More than you can possibly imagine.' He noticed the damage to his hand for the first time. 'Please forgive me Delilah. I had to do it.' Delilah stood up and went to get the medical kit from the bathroom. As she came back she asked   
'Do what?' but all he replied was   
'I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't want to.' until she shook him and said sharply   
'Dad! Tell me!'  
Finally, he did. He told her everything he'd done, including everything he had done to try to help her, while she bandaged his hand. He finished saying  
'But it's better this way. They don't suspect me and I can help you.'  
'Help? What can you possibly do? Give me a good reference? Ask them to be nice when they're interrogating me?' her voice rose to a scared shriek. 'Dad, what are they going to do to me?' The final sneer of the inspector's face filled his head, and his mind was made up.  
'Nothing.' his determination was back, with his courage, in full strength. 'They aren't going to do anything to you. They won't have the chance.' He turned slightly blood-shot eyes to her. 'You're getting out. Escape. Now. Before they have a chance to lock down the doors.' She scrambled to her feet, grabbing at her bag, and managed to say   
'But dad, what about the conse-'  
'Fuck the consequences! You're my daughter and I'm not letting that cop get his filthy hands on you! Find the Bohemians. They'll help you. Now GET OUT!' he rose to his feet, dragged her down the corridor and shoved her out the door.  
'Now - run!' he hissed.  
  
She did. Delilah ran faster than she had ever thought she could, to escape the robocops she felt certain would have been dispatched to track her down at the slightest trigger. For how could she have known that the corrupt policeman hadn't filed his report yet? The unlikely delay was small, but just enough to count. Because of it, no sensors reported a sprinting girl as sinister, no health monitors acknowledged her ragged, unfit breath and her locator chip was not activated. She had to stop on the edge of the town to catch her breath and try to control her pounding heart. She semi-collapsed against a wall, which turned out to be very lucky for her - a patrolling policeman assumed she was just high on some party drug and ignored her. She stumbled over some fallen concrete posts where the neat, clean, square civilisation she knew ended, and the wasteland began. She picked herself up, and kept running. More than once she considered throwing away her bag, as it seemed to only weight her down, but it was the only posession she actually had, and she was reluctant to lose it. The road she had been on before was still there, but was now only a dirt track between piles of un-processed junk and waste banks. She kept running. The night air was painfully cold in her lungs, sharp against her raw throat. She ignored it, and kept running. The road disappeared into a mess of paths, the one she took leading to a chain-link fence. This was no problem, as it had almost completely fallen. She pulled herself over it and kept running into what was now quite obviously a dump. The night was overcast, and rain started to fall. When she could run no further, and was a couple of miles away from home - much further than they would ever expect her to be able to go - she allowed herself to collapse, dragging herself inside the first space she could see that was large enough to hide her. Inside, she curled up as small as she could, and shivering, fell into a very uneasy sleep.  
  
Not so her father. As soon as the team had managed to contact Globalsoft(c) security, the sensors had been switched on at the Forbes0772 residence. The absense of the female teenager was instantly reported, and agents sent to investigate. The same team as before, as they already had knowledge of the case.  
'You just couldn't follow a simple order, could you?' the chief inspector snarled as he and his minions burst through the door. 'You couldn't keep that girl here for one night!'  
'You're not getting my little girl!' Mr Forbes snarled right back at him. He was surprised. The cyber minions surrounded the unfortunate man as he continued 'I know your type. Just couldn't wait to have a little schoolgirl at your mercy, could you? You're a filthy, stinking-'  
'Arrest him!' Ajax barked. The green lasers encapsulated and paralysed his victim. 'You broke the law, Mr Forbes. Now it's time to pay the price.' two identical robots entered the laser cage with a luminous orange helmet held high. At his command, Ajax's officers brought it down around Delilah's father's head. He slumped unconscious, unaware of being taken from his home to police cells.  
  
Once more Delilah had had an incredible stroke of luck. The surface which she happened to rest the back of her neck against was the remains of a discarded industrial computer, with a very strong magnet still attatched. At police headquarters, they could not locate her microchip. It refused to respond to their signals. Weather conditions meant that they couldn't search for her until the morning. Although she didn't realise it, lost in nightmares of evil computers and perverted men of justice, Delilah was safe for the night.   
  
  


* * *

  
TBC. Ok, it's short, but it serves it's purpose. 


	7. Take a walk down Lonely Street

In the early morning, before it was properly light, an inconspicuous cardboard box covered with discarded plastic wrappings was seeing some action. The bottom, carefully concealed, lifted up cautiously. A hand groped out blindly, and reached into the space for a handhold. A second did the same, and a very fluffy haired head and shoulders soon followed. Their owner hoisted himself up onto one elbow, using the other hand to lift up the edge of the covering box. He looked around as much as he could, then called back down the tunnel,  
'All clear.'  
'You sure?'  
'Yup. Gimme a leg up.'  
'Alright babe. Be careful.' The second voice was soft and gentle, sometimes hard to distinguish from background noise. This was, of course, very useful when she didn't want to be heard by anyone but the person she was trying to communicate with. The first person climbed out quickly, lifting the rain-softened box to one side. One hand signalled for his partner to wait, then beckoned her up. He offered his hand down to pull her up, and within seconds a pretty, dark face surrounded by three mohicans emerged. As she stood up, she surveyed the surroundings critically. Behind her, trying to keep his skirt out of the mud, her fellow Bohemian re-positioned the slightly soggy box over the entrance to the tunnel they had come from.  
'We need to replace that soon.'  
'Doesn't look promising.' she held one hand up to her eyes to try and clarify her vision through the early-morning fog. All she could see were large shapes, bulky bits of trash abandoned by a posession-obsessed society. She smiled softly as she felt arms slide around her waist.  
'The weather, or our prospects?' She peeled his arms of her, replying  
'C'mon you, we've got work to do.'  
'Anything special?'  
'Brit asked for another wire if we can get one, and Geo's trying to perfect his bottle-blowing technique. No more pebbles, ok?' he pouted. 'I don't care how pretty they are, we've got enough to build several mini-rockeries down there.'  
'They do make a nice rattle...' They both laughed, kissed, and started combing the ground and piles of junk for anything useable.  
A few metres away from where they were heading towards, Delilah woke up. Funnily enough, it wasn't their voices or he sound of their feet that did it, but something completely different. Throughout the night the rain had been collecting on the top of a sheet of plastic above her. It had been steadily leaking over the edge, but when the storm started up again the rain had intensified and over-filled the bulging container. The sudden increase of weight had proved to much for it, and it had collapsed, sending it's contents cascading over the sleeping girl. She jolted from her nightmares with a small scream, which she tried too late to stifle. She stared around wildly at her unfamiliar surroundings, not yet remembering where she was or how she had got there. She realised that she was not alone when she heard first voices, then rapid footsteps, coming in her direction. She cowered into the back of her hiding place as a hand reached in, and pulled the covering junk away. She covered her face with her arm against the fresh influx of rain with a sharp cry. They'd found her. The police had found her, and they'd take her back and... and she didn't want to think about what would happen to her then.  
'Who are you? What did you see?' Cliff demanded. 'How long have you been spying on us?'  
'I wasn't, I wasn't!' she sobbed, trying to hide her face. There was just the slightest chance that the man didn't know who she was yet. 'Don't take me back. Please, please, I'll do anything, just don't take me back there!'  
'Back where?' he snarled, hauling Delilah to her feet and slamming her against the surface of the junk pile.  
'Who's this?' Aretha asked quietly, coming to Cliff's side and ready to defend herself.  
'You - you're not police?' Delilah whimpered, a glimmer of hope appearing.  
'Anything but.' Cliff snorted. 'I don't think we could be less like the police if we tried.' He let her go. For the first time, she noticed the Bohemian's dress. The woman with the most amazing hair she had ever seen in her life seemed to be wearing... well, she couldn't tell. There definitely appeared to be a skirt, which seemed to be denim, and heavy workboots which looked oddly feminine, but apart from that she couldn't name the rest. The man was wearing what looked like half of a white skirt over one leg of a pair of black leather jeans, and a black hoodie emblazoned with a white skull and red sleeves. She was too panic-struck to notice the thoughtful, searching gaze she was recieving from the woman. Aretha bit her lip for a second then asked  
'What's your name, kid?'  
'You weren't sent to find me?'  
'No. We don't know anything about you. Tell me your name - I might be able to help you.' Delilah looked at her for a second, trying to figure out whether or not she was trustworthy. At least she had stopped her partner from harrassing her. She felt calmer already.  
'Delilah@Forbes0772...'  
'She didn't ask for your email address, she wanted to know your name-'  
'Cliff-' Aretha cut him short, pulling him away. 'We need to talk for a second.' She turned back to Delilah. 'Don't go anywhere, alright? I promise you, on my life, we will do nothing to hurt you.' She pulled Cliff to a discreet distance, while remaining close enough to Delilah to stop her running, if necessary.  
'You know who this is, don't you?'  
'Who?'  
'Doesn't she look like someone we know?'  
'Well yeah, kinda like-'  
'Almost exactly like. And she has a Bohemian name.'  
'You mean you think it's her?'  
'Yes.' Aretha glanced back at the bedraggled Ga Ga girl. 'Yes, I do.' They turned back to her.  
'Ok, 'Delilah', turns out you're-'  
'Cliff, don't get ahead of yourself.' Aretha said sharply. 'You've run away, haven't you?' she asked Delilah, more gently. She nodded silently. 'Would I be right in guessing you don't have anywhere to go?' The same small nod. 'I think you'd better come with us.'  
'Reethie!' Cliff hissed.  
'C'mon, Cliff. She hasn't got anywhere else to go.' she addressed Delilah again 'And if you are who we think you are, it could be very important that you do.'  
'You won't take me back?'  
'No. We're outlaws too.'  
'I guess... I have to come with you. I don't really have a choice. But who are you people?' Cliff and Aretha looked at each other in surprise. Runaways who joined the Bohemians usually ran away for that purpose.  
'You - don't know who we are?' Delilah shook her head.  
'We're Globalsoft's worst nightmare.' Cliff said proudly.  
'The people on the edge of the night.' Aretha intoned.  
'The ones they really, really don't want you to know about.'  
'Which is..?' Delilah prompted.  
'We're the Bohemians.' Delilah's eyes widened.  
'_You're_ the Bohemians? I was told to find you!'  
'Who by?' Cliff asked, a little too quickly. He didn't like the way Aretha was just accepting this girl. She could be anyone, hell, she could be a drone created purely for the purpose of spying. He'd had bad experiences with spies and police, very bad ones. He hadn't fully recovered from the last time he was interrogated. The terrifying thing was that, as a non-person, they didn't have to leave him intact. There would be no questions asked if he was tortured to death - his mysterious disappearance had been years ago. They could do whatever they wanted to him, and the thought never left his mind. If the others hadn't broken out and taken him with them, he was fairly sure he would be a laser-disintegrated corpse by now. They could do anything with those lasers, ranging from light shows through mild nerve burning to complete oxidisation. Parts of his body would never have sensation again. Aretha just wasn't being careful enough for his liking.   
'Babe, don't be rude.'  
'Reethie, she could be anyone!' his voice verged on panic. 'She might not even be human. We don't know how realistic hologrammes have become since we last checked.'  
'Cliff.' Aretha gently took his hands in hers and looked straight into his eyes. 'It's ok baby.' She whispered. She understood. She'd been there, helped carry his unconscious body to the wilderness where they'd been picked up and taken back underground. 'I believe her. When have I ever let you down?' He fell against her, burying his face in the fold between two of her hair spikes. She held him close, rocking him slightly. The sooner they were back home the better. 'It's alright. Just trust me.' She looked back at Delilah. 'They screwed him up pretty bad. You're lucky we found you.' A far-off siren pierced the air. The three flinched simultaneously. 'We have to move.' Cliff jumped and led the way, beckoning impatiently at Delilah who was followed by Aretha. He slithered down the man-hole as quickly as he could, hissing at the girls to hurry up. Aretha helped Delilah slowly climb down the narrow shaft before following herself, pausing only long enough to conceal the entrance.  
Delilah was surprised to find herself in pitch blackness. This wasn't what hours of virtual reality arcade games had taught her that underground tunnels looked like, they were meant to be visible but very blue and a bit dimmer than normal, surely? And they made noises. There should be some ominous low tones, a little quiet scuffling and possibly some squeaking. There wasn't. It felt too - well - too _real_. There was no alt tabbing to get out of this situation. She started to move, then realised that she couldn't see.  
'Erm...'  
'Shh.' A white bar torch appeared somewhere to her right. By it's limited aura, she could make out Cliff's hair and a short disance of a small passage ahead. It seemed to stop dead after a couple of metres, until the light suddenly sank and another trapdoor appeared in the floor.  
'It has to be hard to navigate.' Aretha explained to Delilah in her trademarked low, background-blending voice. 'The more false ends, the less likely it is anyone can find their way down.' The light suddenly went down and disappeared. Delilah carefuly edged forwards, and could see a slight glow from down the trapdoor. She climbed down dubiously towards it, into a low tunnel that she couldn't stand up in. She was one of the generation that considered it fashionable to be tall, but her original DNA already placed her at 5'8", so there was no need to alter it. It didn't often work, anyway - nowhere near as often as the medical division of Globalsoft advertised. Out of her friends, only Melanie had successfully increased her height. Stacey's had actually reversed - but she was generously compensated for the failure, and wore a lot of high heels. Only over the last week had she been forced to wear trainers instead, until the boots had come into fashion.  
  
Back in the city, on the surface, a story was being processed to explain the disappearance of a mostly unnoticeable Ga Ga girl. The explanation was more complex than usual, as the computer had to take into account the fact that the girl's father had 'disappeared' also. The fact that the brother was left was awkward. The most obvious solution appeared to be to remove him as well, and claim that the apartment life-support had been shut down by a tampering teenager. This was rejected. The board of teenage management was sending worrying reports of kids questioning where their friends had gone, and the more they asked, the harder they were to control. And as they became harder to control, more had to 'disappear'... it was a self-perpetuating problem, and they were having a hard time controlling it. So the boy had to stay. Fortunately, he wasn't intelligent, and could be very easily convinced that his father and sister had left his life with perfectly legitimate reasons. After a few second's new calculations, the excuse programme had decided. Mr Forbes had been arrested on charges of adding undue influences to the music he programmed, and was held indefinitely in custody, awaiting trial. People would forget long before he had been gone long enough for them to notice. They were programmed to. The girl had stormed out, following a heated argument, and had been brutally murdered by rebels when she strayed from the boundaries of town. That would serve well as a warning.  
Inspector Ajax had taken over the case of the missing schoolgirl. Officially, it would be good for his career if he found and brought to justice a new rebel. But privately... it bugged him that she had got away. He was determined to find her, and... well, other young, helpless rebels who'd been under his custody could tell tales of what was likely to happen then. The man was ambitious, and hoped to one day take over as head of the Secret Police. He had the drive, the cunning, and the ruthlessness required - this case might prove that he was good enough. Khashoggi had been in charge far too long, in his opinion. He was starting to lose his touch. Ajax would show them. He'd get the girl, and the others.  
  
In the tunnels, the Bohemians were taking a short break. Delilah tried very, very hard not to think about how far below the surface they were. They were all sitting down, Aretha offering a bottle of water around. Delilah accepted gratefully - she suddenly remembered that she hadn't had anything to eat or drink since the previous afternoon. Most girls her age wouldn't have known what water was, in it's pure form, but she remembered her mother encouraging her to drink it when she was still with them. Something to do with there being less chemicals in the stuff than normal drinks, though she couldn't fathom how that was an advantage. She carefully drank only a few sips, instinctively knowing that they still had a long way to go. Cliff took a swig, then they sat in a slightly uncomfortable silence for a few moments, each expecting one of the others to break it. Delilah spoke first.  
'So... how did you two get your names?'  
'Well... it's to do with what we believe in.' Aretha started to explain, but Cliff butted in.  
'Y'see, Delilah, there was a time when real music wasn't just allowed, it was actively encouraged. It was created and performed by real people, the same people. It used to be a scandal if an artist had someone else writing their songs for them. And it wasn't done for the money - rock music was done for the glory of itself.'  
'These artists were respected people - heroes. We try to keep their memory alive by taking their names as our own.'  
'So, what, Cliff Richard and Aretha were rock singers?' Delilah asked.  
'Not exactly.' Aretha answered. 'Aretha Franklin was from before rock, as far as I can gather. But you see it's not just rock - there's more, much more, but it's all been lost. There are names, and a few words, but we hardly know anything about the others.'  
'And Cliff Richard wasn't a rock singer.'  
'He wasn't?'  
'No. Cliff Richard was a rock legend.'  
'There's one thing I don't really understand...'  
'What?'  
'What do you mean by 'real' music? I mean, I've been listening to music all my life, it seems real enough to me...'  
'Music made by people.' Aretha said, standing up. 'Brit explains it better than I do. We'd better get moving, they're expecting us back soon.'  
'Who?'  
'Well... the other Bohemians.'  
'You mean there's more of you?'  
'You didn't think we were the only ones, did you?' Cliff half-laughed.  
'Well...'  
'You're in for a surprise, Delilah.' Aretha caught Cliff's eye. 'A very big surprise.'  
  


* * *

  
I know, the suspense is killing the few people who actually read this... TBC. 


	8. To the Heartbreak Hotel

Aretha signalled for silence from her two companions as she moved cautiously forwards. Every muscle was tensed, knife poised ready to strike, her whole being concentrating on preparing to meet any attack.  
The three had almost reached the goal of their journey, the Bohemian underground lair, and were now waiting to be cleared for entry. Security, although not hi-tech, was as tight as it could possibly be. Any unannounced visitors were liable to find themselves with a knife at their throats, if they were lucky enough to have an alert guard with very good reflexes who didn't just stick it straight through them.  
Aretha carefully tapped out a rhythm on what looked like a wall, but was actually a resonating metal partition through to the other side. After a few seconds it was answered by a similar one, which she, in turn, replied to with three quiet knocks and one loud. Slowly, the wall swung open and revealed a very strange sight, to one not expecting it. The roughly carved tunnel they were in gave way to a large, bright, apparently empty room. As per the Bohemian's instructions, Delilah hung back, out of sight. Two or three heavily armed people - obviously guards - entered the room. The Ga Ga girl shrunk further into the shadows. Those knives looked... sharp. Businesslike. From the way they were being held, it didn't look like their owners were shy about using them, either.  
'Any trouble?' a fairly tall man with dark blonde dreadlocks asked. For some reason, his jeans were held up only by a belt, the fly kept open to display bright red Y-fronts.  
'Nearly. There were police approaching, but they weren't after us.'  
'Are you sure?'  
'Yes.' A second man came forwards. Delilah couldn't help gawping at him - he was wearing a gold - and very obviously designed for a woman - corset. His hair stood straight up on end, and he seemed to emenate anarchy. He had a thick accent she couldn't place, but seemed vaguely British.  
'Did ye manage tae get anything?'  
'No Prince, we couldn't get anything from the list - we didn't have time.' Aretha said apologetically. 'But we did manage to get something that will make someone very happy.' She turned back to the shadows, where Delilah was still hiding. 'C'mon out. It's ok, they won't touch you - you're with me.'  
Big Macca readjusted his stance to look slightly more menacing. So Aretha had found a new convert, then. Shouldn't be anything to worry about, she was very careful about who she let join, even more than everyone else. Still, it never hurt to impress upon newbies the fact that he was the leader, in charge, in control of everything... well, nominally, anyway. People didn't seem to feel the need to do what he told them very often, but then again he hardly ever bossed anyone around anyway. They respected him, he respected them, so it was all good.   
Delilah swallowed and cautiously stepped forward into the light. She wasn't at all sure about coming down there at all, now - she hadn't considered what might be waiting for her at the other end of the journey, only that she had to get away from the police. The sight of those knives had reminded her of some news bulletins from the last few weeks, briefly describing the murders of some anonymous kids her age by what were broadly referred to as 'rebels'. They hadn't bothered her at all before, they weren't relevant to her. Now she realised that that was exactly what these 'Bohemians' were - rebels. But there was no way back.  
He was still trying to decide whether crossing his arms over his chest would make him look impressive or just silly when he had a very strange experience. Out from behind the heavy, circular metal door Aretha and Cliff had returned through seemed to emerge one of his lovers. But she was dressed as a Ga Ga girl, and blonde. And filthy. His arms dropped slowly from an indecisive position across his abdomen as his mouth hung open. Both he and Britney stepped forwards, hardly believing what they were seeing.  
'So whaddya think of this?' Cliff grinned. Big Macca reached to Delilah's face, gently turning her head to one side, then the other.  
'Jesus fucking Christ.' he breathed softly, still inspecting her face. She flinched back, but let him, not knowing what else she could possibly do. 'Someone get Seal. This is unbelievable.' The man known as Prince went off to do so.  
''K, Big Macca, Brit, this is-'  
'Delilah.' the hitherto silent black man filled in. 'Yes.'  
'So we meet at last.' Big Macca grinned. 'I've heard a lot about you.'  
  
Prince found her at the end of one of the main halls, leafing through some of the texts on the sunk half of the floor. She was agitated. She didn't know exactly what it was she was looking for, but it was something she'd found before, years ago. And it was important.   
Looking at her, no-one would guess that she was halfway through her fourth decade, especially for a woman with no access to plastic surgery. Her skin was smooth, muscles toned from actual use, there wasn't the faintest hint of grey in her thick brown hair. That in itself was unusual. If the follicles were genetically altered, she should have been blonde. All women chose blonde, according to the statistics.   
'Hey Seal, babe.'  
'I told you before Prince,' she didn't quite snarl, not looking up, 'hitch a hike. I'm not in the mood.'  
'Ah've got something to show ye.' he jumped down onto the lower level with her, forcing her to acknowlege him. She glanced up briefly to make eye contact, then continued sifting through the relics as she replied.  
'I've seen it before, and I don't want to see it again any time soon but thank you for the offer anyway.'  
'Woman, ye've got a one-track mind.' he leered.  
'Huh. You can talk.'   
'Ah wasnae talkin' aboot that. Big Macca wants tae see ya.' That made her look up.'Oh, he does, does he?' She replied shortly, slightly surprised, and put down the wads of paper from either hand in designated piles which would, no doubt, have been rearranged by the time she got back. She stood and climbed up onto the platform with one step, then waited for him to clamber up after her on his considerably shorter legs. 'I'm surprised he remembers who I am.' she muttered, following the stocky Scotsman up to the entrance. 'It had better be important.'  
'Oh, aye.' he said, an amused spark in his eyes. 'It is.'  
  
'What?' Delilah looked around, confused. She'd definitely never met any of these people before, and didn't think it was at all likely that they would be associates of her friends or teachers. A wave of fear washed over her. Could they be secret police agents? No, that didn't make sense. Why would they go to all the trouble of luring her down here when they had been so close up on the surface? It didn't make sense.   
'Don't worry.' Big Macca laughed 'We're not Globalsoft minions or anything like that. Look, there's nothing to worry about - the reason we know who you are is -' he cut off abruptly and tilted his head to listen behind him. From at least twenty metres away and below, he could hear a voice, raised slightly in pitch and volume in annoyance. No words were distinguishable when a grin slowly spread across his face, marking the progress of a Thought*. By the time everyone could hear  
'Well I don't see why it's so important he sees me NOW and get your hands OFF...' he had strolled over to the doorway it was coming from, planting his feet wide apart and his left hand as high up the frame as he could, right resting on his hip, effectively blocking sight of the room from anyone coming up the stairs. The first Delilah saw of Seal was her hair and feathers, showing behind the silhouette of Big Macca's head, and befishnetted arms planted firmly on hips.  
'Lovely to see you my darling, as ever.' Big Macca oozed charm.  
'Alright, what do you want?' Seal tried to keep her voice harsh and irritated, but couldn't when he was giving her that look. Completely against her will, it softened. 'What did you need to show me? If it's the cooking rota, I'm sorry, ok? I was looking for something really important, I completely lost track of time and Geo covered for me anyway-'  
'Nuh-uh.' Big Macca held one finger to her lips. 'I think it's something you'll be very pleased to see.' He seemed to her to move in slow motion as he stepped to the side and pushed her forwards with one hand in the small of her back. She didn't notice his hand slide down and squeeze her buttock when she saw what was in front of her. A Gaga Girl. A Teen Queen. Blonde hair, dirty, slightly torn miniskirt and top, hair breaking free from its constraints. A girl who had obviously run, climbed and crawled to get there. A girl who had run away from the world she knew. Delilah.  
The woman revealed to Delilah seemed incredibly tall, even to her. It wasn't long before she realised that the effect was created by the 4-inch soled boots she was wearing and the almost sphere created by her wild, frizzy brown hair, semi-controlled only by a black headband. The untamed masses rested on a bed of fine red and black feathers attatched to a harness-like set of leather straps. Her arms were covered in converted fishnet tights which were mostly intact, but slashed to rags across her body and so were covered with a red strappy top, also slashed up and with black strips sewn across it. She was wearing a belt consisting of three lines of square studs tight-packed on black leather, and she wore a pair of black leather chaps with black knickers instead of more conventional trousers. They looked perfectly normal until she moved and displayed the strip of skin between the edges of the fabrics. But it wasn't the outfit that mesmerised Delilah. It was the face.  
Looking back on the past few days, it was hard for Delilah to fully comprehend all that had happened. She had been persecuted, betrayed, hunted and yet given a last reprieve by her traitor. She'd found out for certain what she'd always suspected all along - that she didn't quite fit in. She didn't even really know what she'd done wrong. In a few short hours her world had shattered and fallen apart. But then, suddenly, it pulled itself back together again.  
'Mum?' the whisper barely escaped her lips before she tried to bite it back, embarrassed. The Waki-hol unit wouldn't work at this depth - it, like most other high-power appliances, required far more energy than could possibly be carried around in it and consequently had a remote power source on the surface. There was no way her holographic parent could be down there. This woman was flesh and blood, real, and alive. But she looked identical to the hologramme. Realisation greeted Delilah's brain circuits with a wave, then knocked loudly on the door, and finally, growing tired of being ignored, slapped her with a metaphorical pair of stale kippers.  
'You - you're real!' she took one shaky step forwards.   
'Delilah...' Seal couldn't take her eyes off her. 'You made it! Oh, I always knew you would my darling -' She cut off abruptly as she ran the short distance to her daughter and threw her arms around her, bursting into overjoyed tears. Delilah returned them. All the stress of the past few days combined with the shock of coming face to face with a woman she thought had been dead for the last three years meant that she couldn't hold them back. She clung to her as if she'd never let go. She didn't want to let go, not this time.  
'How?' The sob was barely discernable, being effectively muffled by Seal's hair. 'How is it possible? You're dead, they said you died...'  
'Is that what they told you?' Seal pulled away to be able to look straight at Delilah, holding her at arms length. 'Is that what those bastards told you?' Delilah choked back more tears, hastily explaining  
'You - you sent me that email, saying you couldn't pick me up from school, remember? And when I checked my inbox again there was a notice from the police saying you'd been - you'd been killed in a-'  
'-A freak accident?' Delilah nodded. She could't quite trust herself not to burst into tears again if she spoke.  
'Oh Delilah... I'm so sorry, my darling. There was no way to tell you...' She thought for a while, then explained 'Look, pretty much everyone down here was either killed in some sort of accident, or was murdered by 'rebels', or just plain disappeared. They make up an excuse for everyone.'  
'But why didn't you ever try to contact me?'  
'I couldn't. Don't you see? I had to disappear. Oh, I wanted to - but if I had, I probably _would_ be dead by now, or as good as.' Suddenly she smiled and laughed, as if she'd just realised that she'd done something remarkably silly. 'You know what?' she said cheerily.  
'What?' Delilah asked, confused at this sudden change of mood.  
'You've grown.'   
  
'The girl would serve as an excellent example of how even the most ordinary kid can be tricked and dragged into the underworld almost irretrievably if we get her back.' Ajax tried to keep his agitation to a minimum. The propaganda division had to give him the funding to find Delilah. They had to.  
'We appreciate the value of your proposition, Inspector, but there are some points we need to establish...'  
_If you even think of refusing me, cunt, I'll pull your plug so fast you won't even have time to say goodbye._ the hologramme in front of him continued.   
'What, for instance, are our chances of success? An operation of this scale is expensive to mount, as you know well, inspector.'  
'Of course it will succeed! I will not stop until I have the _bitch_girl!' Ajax said, a little too quickly. 'And...' he continued, attemping to cover his tracks. His minor emotional outburst had not gone unnoticed, though.   
'I'm sure that your dedication to the task in hand will play well on the public.' the hologramme interrupted cooly.  
'She has an ID and locator chip. Now that the electrical storms have dissipated, my officers can continue to search the last area she was recorded in-'  
'But by your own admission, inspector, you do not know where the girl is.' A file was called up on Ajax's monitor, one line of the report highlighted. 'As your human officer reported-' there was the slightest hint of disdain on the mention of the minion's race '- and I quote, 'She simply disappeared into the ground'.'  
'I will find her.' Ajax replied grimly. _She will be mine._   
  
'So what have you been doing all this time? Have you really been here for three years? How do you survive?'  
'One question at a time, sweetie!'  
'I haven't seen you since I was fourteen, loads of stuff's happened and you've changed so much...' Delilah prattled happily at her mother in a way she hadn't done since she was about nine or ten as the small party took her down to the main body of the Heartbreak. Seal didn't particularly listen. This was it. This was what she had been waiting for. Her little girl had come home at last, and that was all that mattered.  
'So anyway, after listening to it for the last 17 and a half years, I thought "Hey, it can't be THAT hard, I'll try it myself", and it sort of blew up in my face and I guess that's what got me here so it turned out for the best really...' Delilah was so caught up in recounting her story to the small group(not particularly noticing, or caring, whether or not they were listening) that she didn't notice the underwear guy pulling her mother to one side, or that he was speaking to her in very hushed tones.  
'Seal, baby, you know I hate to piss on your parade, but we have to make sure the chick's safe.'   
'Of course she's safe! Paul, this is my daughter we're talking about-'  
'We can't be sure of that just yet. We don't know how far they've come.'  
'You don't understand, I'm her mother - I would know if it wasn't her.'  
'I know that, I know that, but - well - she could have been sent here.' Seal stopped and turned to him.  
'You can't really think that, can you?'  
'Any new arrival is a potential threat, you know that. Even her.' The thought had, in fact, occurred to her, but she'd repressed it and hoped that the small fact would go unnoticed by everyone else.  
'We have to check her out.' She looked deflated, suddenly needing to lean against the wall for support.   
'She can't be.' her voice went very quiet. 'Oh Paul, I just don't think I could take it if my little girl was a spy.'  
'Hey, babe, it'll be alright.' Big Macca wrapped his arms around her shoulders comfortingly, as he tried to think of something to say to go with the gesture. 'Chances of her being who she says she is... well, they're pretty high, aren't they? I mean, what with you having had all these visions and stuff.'  
'Dreams, Big Macca. Just dreams, but they came true.'  
  
'Well, the commissioner's got back to me, and he agrees with your choice of figurehead for the adolescant re-claim programme.' Ajax's relief was practically tangible. 'Off the record, I sincerely hope that you don't screw this up.'  
'That's a very sentient attitude, 3335/98752.' the hologramme shrugged.  
'Merely self-preserving. If you destroy yourself, you have the means and motivation to do the same to me.'  
'Logical. How much have I got to find her?'  
'Whatever you need.' he replied drily. 'He's looked her up, and is very taken with her. Almost as much as you, I would say.'  
'I have absolutely no idea what you could possibly be talking about.' Ajax said blandly. 'I am interested purely in the _bitch_girl's welfare.'  
'I had no intention of implying anything otherwise.' The cool response threw Ajax off-guard. They sat there, staring at each other for a few moments before the hologramme spoke again.  
'Unless you have any further questions, that will be all, Inspector. Please do not hesistate to come to us with any queries that may arise.'  
  
Down in the Heartbreak Hotel, the Bohemians weren't through with their security checks.  
'She's chipped.'  
'Where?'  
'Back of the neck, just about there.' Seal demonstrated on Big Macca.  
'Anything else?'   
'No, I don't think so.'  
'WristWAP.' Britney added helpfully. 'They all had them last time I went up.'  
'Yes, of course.'  
'We'll have to take that off her.'   
Delilah, perched on a hand rail, watched the small huddle with interest. It was an odd concept to her, the idea of people talking about something and not only not wanting it to be overheard, but actively trying to prevent it as well.  
'What are they talking about?' she asked the woman who had been left to guard her. She was learning to distinguish individual Bohemians by their clothes, at first glance. This also was new, to a girl who was used to uniform, identikit teenagers who strove to be as similar as possible. This one was wearing mostly red, red trousers, red fishnet top and red bra, breaking the trend with the remains of a grey tail-coat on top. She also - and this would prove very useful for identification later, when she changed - had a pair of what Delilah would later discover were drumsticks, shoved into one pocket. The woman shrugged.  
'You, I guess.'  
'Oh. Right.' Now that was more understandable. Not talking to people when you were talking _about_ them was perfectly normal. 'Why?'  
'Gotta check you're not an android or a hologramme or a spy or anything like that. Can't have you destroying the Heartbreak.' Delilah couldn't quite tell whether or not she was serious. Subtlety was not something she was at all used to.  
'The what?' The woman looked at her with a calculating half-smile.  
'The Heartbreak.'  
'What's that?' Delilah asked, still as puzzled.  
'You're in it. The Heartbreak Hotel.'  
'Oh, right!' Delilah got it. 'So that's what you call this place. Why would I want to destroy it?'  
'You don't know much, do you kid?' This time she spoke with a genuine smile. If only this girl was for real, there was potential here for a great Bohemian. This time Delilah shrugged.  
'I'm willing to learn.'  
'We're illegal. Everything about us - the way we live, the way we dress, the way we think. Especially the way we think. And our music. It's pretty crude at the moment, but when we find the rhapsody we'll have the power to turn every GaGa kid on the planet away from Globalsoft. That scares them, so they try to eliminate us.'  
'But why would they send me? Why not a normal policeman?'  
'Delilah babes, do you have any idea how long we've been evading them?' Delilah shook her head. 'Since, like, forever. Since the first formation of Globalsoft, there have been Bohemians. They get more and more desperate to destroy us every time they try, and they've tried a lot. They've sent spies, they've sent hologrammes, they've scoured the wildernesses to find us. They hardly ever find us. And when they do -' she stopped short, considering whether or not it would be wise to tell this girl what happened to spies. It might cause her to bolt, and that would certainly not be good.  
'And when they do...?' Delilah prompted her. Madonna sighed at her own thoughtlessness, and continued.  
'Let's just say they never get to report back.' The words she embellished with a sharp cutting motion across her throat with one hand. Delilah swallowed and turned visibly paler. She looked over at the group, still discussing her, and picked out her mother. She wouldn't let them kill her, would she? No, of course not. She had come here for their protection, they wouldn't hurt her. All she had to do was prove who she was and she'd be fine.  
The circle opened up. Delilah felt apprehension rise in her throat and hoped that they wouldn't ask her to speak. She couldn't.  
'K, Delilah, I'm sure you understand that we've got to careful about, like, who we let join us here at the Heartbreak, right?' Big Macca started. She nodded mutely. 'Good, good. Well, thing is, I hope you accept my apologies in advance, right, cos what we're gonna have to do - to ensure our own safety, and yours too, of course, you understand - well, some of it might be a bit painful, and we're gonna have to take away your wristWAP, hope you don't mind, but it's trackable, y'see so it's an unfortunate thing but we can't afford to have it here as it's a danger to our, like, security.' Delilah nodded again, this time managing a quiet spoken affirmation. 'Right. Well, the worst part is that your mother here tells me that you're chipped, and we're gonna have to - well - remove it.'  
'Wh-what do you mean?' Her voice returned to her gradually, as it grew clearer that despatching her wasn't on top of their collective agenda. Her mother came forward, gently explaining -  
'Darling, you have an ID chip. It's in the back of your skull, just under the skin, and it wouldn't be a problem except that it's a locator chip too - well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. All my friends were doing it.' Delilah nodded in understanding. That made sense.  
'So take it out.' she shrugged.  
'Ah.' All eyes went to Big Macca, from whom the noise had emitted.  
'Ah?'  
'Well, y'see, problem is that we kinda... well, we're sort of lacking in the anaesthetic department.' Delilah looked blank.  
'We don't have any pain killers.' Madonna translated. 'It's gonna hurt.'   
  
Ajax hummed the latest boyband's hit happily under his breath as he sat down at his console to run a search for his runaway. _Disappeared into the ground..._ he mused. _Could he have meant... no, that's not possible._ He opened the chip tracking programme, gave it her code and watched as it's graphics displayed something similar to a 20th century radar on his screen. It started picking something up, sifting through the numbers, refining the search. Ajax got up to get himself a cup of coffee while it worked. It beeped. He grinned - it had found her signal. Now all that had to happen was for it to be located... it beeped again, but this time it was more of a 'bleuurgh' than a 'beep'. He sat down to see what had happened, snarled, kicked the computer and hurled his coffee across the room.  
The chip had been deactivated.  
  
'So this has been instide my neck all my life?' Delilah cautiously fingered the - rather flatter than it used to be, thanks to Madonna's heel - ID chip that had just been expertly, if rather painfully, removed from under her skin.  
'Pretty much, yep. Broadcasting your whereabouts to the police the whole time.'  
Delilah examined it a bit closer. 'Why did they bother to put LEDs in it?'  
'God knows.' They inspected the chip a bit closer, in thoughtful silence. Big Macca took the opportunity to bring the conversation back round onto topic.  
'Yeah, well, this is all very great an' all, but we've got to get on with, y'know, clearing the girl for, like, entry.'  
'True, true.' Aretha said gently.  
'Right! Well. Ok then. First test, Brit, if you would be so kind...'   
'Jumping Jack Flash, it's just a...' Britney started.  
  
There was silence.  
  
There was some more silence.  
  
There was some silence that wasn't strictly silence, as it included some restless shifting and clearing of impatient throats.  
  
Finally, there was something that wasn't silence. Aware that all eyes were on her and that they were waiting for a response, Delilah tried gave the only one that came to her mind.  
'Err... pardon?'   
Madonna tried to hold in a giggle, but it came out as a snort.  
'Well, she ain't the dreamer.'  
'Nope.'  
'Indeed.'  
'The what?'  
'Ah. Right.' Big Macca began, slightly uncomfortably. The Dreamer monologue was halfway through his normal speech, and it referred to stuff he'd have said before, and he'd have to say it differently this time, and it was all a bit awkard and he'd have to make it up as he went along and he really wished she'd started at the beginning. 'Well, what we do is try to, like, dig up the past of music and make it play again. Cos, right, once we've got the music again, we'll have the Rhapsody, then -'  
'What's this Rhapsody?'  
'Oh. Right. Erm. Well, it's basically, like, the effect you get from real live rock, it's this really powerful state of being-'  
'Like ecstacy?'  
'Well, yeah, but without any kind of drug or anything. Just the music. Right. The Dreamer. Yes. Well, we're doing our best to create this music to bring the Rhapsody on, but we can't do it alone. We believe that, in time, there will arise a man who carries the past within him - a man who can remember. And once he - or she, it could always be a woman, we don't discriminate - comes to us, we will rock. And then Globalsoft won't stand a chance, and we'll all be free again to be ourselves, to have our lives, to make our own music - real music, with real musical instruments.'  
'Oh. I see.' This wasn't the awe he was expecting, but he put that down to the fact that she hadn't enjoyed the full benefit of his speech.  
'But, yeah, the point is that the Dreamer would, like, recognise what Brit just sung and would respond to it.' She nodded. 'Right. So, on with the tests. Have you ever been to the Heartbreak before?' She shook her head. 'Ok, read the holy texts?'  
'The what?'  
'Good, good. Know what a Bohemian is?' she shook her head again. 'Ever heard of us before?' she nodded. 'Ok, when?' Delilah cleared her throat.  
'My dad told me to find you, after he'd grassed me up to the Secret Police.'  
'Oh. Umm, that could be a problem.'  
'Nah, we took the chip out.' Madonna reminded him.  
'Yeah, true. Right, have you been into hospital recently, Delilah?' she shook her head again. 'Right! Well, that's that then. Welcome to the Heartbreak Hotel.'  
'Is -' she yawned, and was suddenly aware of quite how long it had been since she had last slept properly. '- that it?'  
'Yup, you're cleared.' Madonna said, cheerfully slapping her on the back. Unfortunately, this had the effect of her collapsing in a heap on the floor. 'Bloody hell, when did you last eat?' she asked, hauling her back up to her feet.   
'Dunno... yesterday? Last night? Not sure...' Brit came forwards, offering her an arm to lean on that she gladly accepted.  
'Bugger that, she needs to sleep.' her mother said authoritively.   
'My bed's closest...' Madonna offered.  
'Yeah. Come on.'  
Delilah was in a daze as they took her down into the main body of the Heartbreak. Here and there she was aware of inquiring faces on fantastic, bizarre bodies, and of the occaisional brief explanation of who she was and what she was doing there. The stairs seemed almost endless to her tired legs, and the sight of Madonna's sleeping bag and various other items of bedding was one of the most welcoming she'd ever seen.  
'There now, you just crash there.' Madonna smiled as she heard a muffled 'thanks' from the girl Brit and Seal were depositing on her bed.  
'Sleep well, darling.' Seal murmered. 'You're safe now.'   
  
*Big Macca is not really prone to recieving many of these. Fortunately, most of the other Bohemians are, and find subtle ways to introduce them to him that generally result in fairly good leadership.back 


	9. Chapter 9 at long last

Jackson Five had started to pull back the covers on her bed, when she noticed that the one next to it was occupied. This struck her as slightly strange, as she had just seen Madonna - who the bed belonged to, and she regularly shared with - outside. She shrugged, assuming that she hadn't noticed her coming in, and decided to join her.  
Delilah wasn't sure whether or not she'd woken when she felt the blanket pull back over her shoulders, and a hand start to slide over them.  
'Hey babe, didn't see you there. Mind if I join you?'  
She turned, half opening her eyes to see who it was that was speaking to her. She managed to process an oval face with fairly normal makeup and the wild hair she'd already come to associate with these people, then noticed a look of surprise.  
'Oh! I'm sorry.' Jackson Five said mildly. 'I thought you were... never mind. Go back to sleep.' wordlessly, Delilah turned back over and as she did, semi-noticed the blanket being pulled carefully back into place. Before closing her eyes again she caught an impression of five inch stiletto heels and a lot of PVC, silhouetted against the doorway. She wasn't sure whether or not she was dreaming.

'Hey there, 'Donna.' A husky alto breathed over Madonna's shoulder, as she sat on the edge of the upper half of the main gathering area. With her were a handful of other Bohemians, who'd happened to be there when Seal came in still slightly delirious with the good news of her daughter's safe arrival, and a couple of bottles of what was more or less vodka - brewed(in large quantities) in the recesses of the Heartbreak Hotel - being liberally passed around to celebrate the occasion.  
'Hey there yourself, Miss Five.' she turned, then kissed her. Jackson Five affectionately slid one arm around her neck.  
'So, what's the party for, and who's that in your bed?'   
'Delilah.' Lulu grinned from across the circle, answering both questions.   
'Seal's kid?' she looked around at everyone's slightly drunk nods in surprise. 'Seriously?' he nodded with a grin.  
'The very same.'  
'Thought she looked familiar.' She sat down next to Madonna, reaching for the bottle that was readily passed over to her. 'You know, Madonna,' she said conspiritorily 'You're far too generous with who you let into your bed.'  
'Yeah, but it's why you love me.'  
'True.'  
'She's the first of her kind.' A solemn voice from within a sheaf of dreadlocks announced, interrupting what could have become a fairly steamy scene.  
'She is, as well.' Cliff chirped, and resettled into Aretha's lap. 'And we found her.'  
'Yeah, well done.'  
'Where is she now?' A deceptively cute looking girl in ripped jeans and a tutu asked.  
'Asleep, Donny.' Madonna answered. 'Big Macca's gonna introduce her to everyone tomorrow.'

Fast forward a few hours, a few bottles, a few drunk kisses and a few drunk rather-more-than-kisses. Well, any excuse. 

'SCRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRG-G-G-G-ACKACKACH Testing, testing...' Throughout what used to be Tottenham Court Road underground station, disgruntled, hungover, interrupted or rudely awakened Bohemians turned towards their nearest speaker of the recently resurrected station PA in expectation of whatever message Big Macca wished to impart.  
'Hhhcould chhheveryone, like, chgo zto the main platzform coszz I've, like, got someone I need zto introzduce you zto sszo you don't, like, think shhhe'sza zstranger or anything likethat cos she'szz new and acztually a very zspecial persson and I wouldn'tz wantz anyone to think she's trying to attzack us or anyzsthing like that zso yeah, all pleasze asszemble in the hall in zten minutesssssszzzzzzzzzzCHCHCHCHCHHHHHHG-G-G-G-G-GGREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHGGGNNNNNK.' 

Big Macca turned proudly to Delilah, hanging up the ancient microphone. 'Got that working last week, me and Geo. All the wires still there, only rusted all the way through in a few places, Geo got that sorted somehow and it works like new now.' he patted the wall beside the microphone where, presumably, the wires ran.  
'It's his new toy.' Seal explained.  
'It is not! It is a very useful and vital peice of equipment, and it is not to be abused my myself or any other persons trusted with its use!'  
'Paul, you sent thirty seven messages over the thing in one day.'  
'It had to be tested.' he muttered, pinkening slightly in embarrassement. 'And some of those were really important!'  
'One of them was you asking Barbie where your socks were.'  
'Yeah, well, you know it's right, really important to, um, not let your feet get, like, cold.'  
'Of course.' Seal said mildly, taking pity on him by changing the subject. 'Why don't we go and see who's turned up?' Big Macca's face lit up as this idea entered his brain almost unhindered.  
'Yeah! Can't have people, like, not knowing what's going on.'  
'Exactly.'

They went into the old platform, now converted into a low-ceilinged, round walled hall, and waited. Big Macca, being the gentleman that he was, dragged an empty metal drum across and gestured Delilah to sit down. First to saunter into the area was Bob, resplendsant in his purple robes and metallic red trousers. He nodded silently to Big Macca, then took up what was apparently his usual position leaning against a doorframe, which would later - when the space was full - prove to have an excellent view of the cleared floor the Bohemian leader made his announcements and speeches from. Gradually, other Bohemians, some wary, some interested, some just rather bleary-eyed, joined them. Almost last to enter were Britney, and a very intense looking young woman in fishnet stockings, frayed hotpants, a red leather corset and multicoloured dreadlocks. Her general appearance suggested that she was the ultimate Bohemian, and a force to be reckoned with. Delilah found herself rather nervous in her presence, especially as she didn't look happy. Of course, there was no way she could know that this was almost purely because she hadn't had any coffee for a few days. It was getting increasingly hard to obtain, like a lot of other foods these days. The hydroponics were providing enough of the staples to live off, and some of those more in touch with nature actually hunted for meat, but caffeine had to be scavenged and there just wasn't enough of it around, dammit!  
Delilah relaxed a little when she saw Brit hug her, and she respond. She smiled at something he whispered in her ear, whispered something back and then kissed him. Reassuringly human.

'That's Meatloaf.' Seal bent down and told Delilah. 'And over there, that's Geo - in the hat - he's our resident technician, he can make almost anything work. You know Cliff, and you met Prince last night but I don't think you were properly introduced -'  
'Is everybody here?' Big Macca shouted over the crowd. 'I SAID, is every-'  
'All here, Big Macca.' Lulu replied.   
'Ah. Good.' He caught himself mid-bellow, having got all attention, except from one girl in the corner who looked about fifteen and bearing some sort of grievance.  
'Well I dewnt see why he's allowed to boss uz ar-' Donny Osmond elbowed her in the ribs.  
'Ow! What was that for? I didn't do anything to yew- oh, right.'  
'Y'with us, Robbie? Right. Good. Well, some of you already know that we've got ourselves a new member here. Everyone, please allow me to introduce you to Delilah.' He paused for a few seconds to give them the time he knew he would have needed to catch up. They waited patiently for him to continue. 'Now, some of you might already know that she's, like, Seal's daughter, and so we're very lucky that she's found us, and I suppose she's very lucky too. Right! So, if you want to introduce yourselves, please feel free to do so after the, um, meeting cos we've got to go over the rules of the Heartbreak Hotel and y'know, general guidelines to Bohemia. It won't do anyone any harm to hear them again, cos I've noticed that people have been swapping jobs on the rotas without telling me and it may seem like nothing to you, but it's little things that build up to create, like, confusion...' 

Delilah took the speech as an opportunity to study the sea of faces around her. She couldn't help the current situation reminding her uncannily of a school assembly. She noticed that although Paul McCartney - or Big Macca, as everyone called him - had proved himself to be a bit of a bumbling numbskull, they all listened with respect to what he had to say. He seemed to be like a father figure to them, or a priest - and they his congregation. Perhaps he was a mix of the two. They all looked so different, not only to what Delilah knew, but also to each other. It was a big concept, and a hard one to get a grip on, that there was no set way to rebel against the government set fashions and lifestyle. Fishnet did not appear to be obligatory, neither did leather or metal studs, though they were popular. Some of the Bohemians had their hair exquisitely and obviously painstakingly styled, others just let it be the way it wanted to. Aretha had the most 'normal' style, plain bobbed hair. She also had the second most normal style, a long thick plait, and the third, an even longer thin plait. Then she had six almost Mohican spikes, five around the base of one main one. Delilah couldn't work out where all that hair came from. She guessed it must be mostly extensions.  
Then there was everybody's makeup. No, face paint. No, it was somewhere in between - obviously applied with great skill, as makeup, but the designs were so bold and huge that they were more like kid's face paint, stars and flowers and huge blocks of colour everywhere.   
'...make sure you clear up after yourself, and basically do as you would be done by. Does anyone have any questions, then?'   
A few hands went up, amid a general noise of too many people trying to make themselves heard at once.   
'People, please!' Big Macca barked. 'One at a time!' he turned at random to the cheeky fairy sitting on Cliff's lap. 'Donny?'   
'Um, yeah. What did you do?' she asked, looking straight past Big Macca to Delilah. He was mildly miffed by this. As the authoritive figure in this instance, all communications should be run past him first, especially if they had been allowed specifically by him. Donny hadn't even looked at him. He let it pass though, making a mental note to mention it to her at a later point.   
'What do you mean?' Delilah asked cautiously.   
'To get down here. Why'd you have to run away?'   
'Oh, right. I - oh, bloody hell. I -' _created? invented? made?_ verbs jostled around in her mind, trying to fit into the gap she needed to fill in her sentence. '- programmed, I guess, a song.' a Mexican wave of understanding glances swept across the room, with many muttered 'Ah, me too.' and 'So did I's.   
'So were you caught, or did you just run away?' someone said from the back. Delilah's face went blank for a few seconds as she recalled coming home to the police, to running and running and not daring to stop until she dropped from exhaustion. Her father had turned her in. Her own father.   
'Betrayed.' she whispered, then cleared her throat. 'I was betrayed.'   
'Oh, aye. We all know how that one feels.' for the first time, the young woman cradled in Britney's lap spoke.   
An uncomfortable silence settled, as memories, private and shared, evoked in each of the Bohemians. They seemed to be affected to different degrees. Whilst some of them let a shadow of recollection cross their faces before being obviously glad that it was over, others were dwelling. Delilah bit her lip nervously, realising uncomfortably that it was because of her. She looked over to those she knew for reassurance, and was alarmed to see Cliff in Aretha's arms, staring blankly ahead, shaking slightly and seemingly unresponsive. She was whispering to him, gently repeating his name over and over again, trying to draw him back from the past into the present. He was re-living the moment he had wandered into a flying squad of Secret Police and been unable to give a suitable excuse for his presence there, in the forbidden wastelands. The terror, the paralyzing shock and horror of the encounter was with him there, across his face and in his trembling body. Delilah's eyes flickered anxiously from the scene, hoping that someone else had noticed and would do something. To her relief, almost everyone else had their eyes, concerned but not especially worried, on the pair. Paul McCartney's face was composed, said 'hey, don't worry, this happens all the time', but his eyes were close to panic. This did happen all the time. And he had no idea how to deal with it.   
A throat cleared behind her. Delilah saw the raw gratitude flicker across the Bohemian leader's face as Bob the Builder spoke.   
'Erm, Big Macca, if we're more or less done here, can I go? Only I've got to get back to the-'   
'Yes, yes of course.' Big Macca was once again the trouble-free, all-knowing, competant leader that he had to be in front of his people. 'Anyone who wants to go can, of course, we're pretty much wrapped up here, right? I know there's - erm - things - that need doing, so yeah, 'course, if you want to stay around and make your acquaintances a bit better, go for it, sure, but please make sure that if you've got something that needs doing... well, you know, do it...'   
The room came alive with people in a rush to get up and out, talking, chattering, complaining about the lack of sensation in their legs and generally bustling. Delilah stayed where she was, unsure of where to go even if she did move. Though the crowd seemed to be giving the impression that all was well, Cliff was still more or less foetal in Aretha's arms, but at least he seemed to be aware of where he was now. She saw Aretha ask him a question, and him slightly nod his head. Another, and it was just about perceptible that he shook it.   
'Right!' Madonna stepped into her line of vision. 'Now you're all introduced, let's get you sorted out!'   
'Huh?' Delilah asked vaguely, not at all sure what she'd meant.   
'Well, for a start you need a new-'   
'Is he gonna be ok?' Madonna looked round, then turned back.   
'He will be.' she replied quietly. 'He's got Aretha looking after him.'   
'I didn't mean to do that.'   
'Course not. But Cliff, y'know - well, he's got issues. He needs to get them out of his system sooner or later. Now, you -' she changed subject brightly, taking an authorative tone '- we need to get you kitted out properly if you're gonna be living with us.'   
'What, you mean like get a new outfit and stuff?'   
'Yep. And I'll do ya hair, if you like.'   
'Yeah, thanks. This is heavy.' Delilah indicated the thick, stiffly displayed ponytail on top of her head. It was a little more droopy than it had been before, not being designed to be waterproof. She'd had a shower almost as soon as she had woken up that morning, and had been surprised at how effective, if not sophisticated, the Bohemian washing facilities were. The shower arrangement was obviously bits and peices that had been gleaned from various scavenging trips and stuck together by someone who had a very clear idea of what they wanted to do, but not really how they were going to go about it. It seemed a bit like the assembly of a flat-pack set of shelves with the Swedish instructions and that little triangular Alan key,the one that you can't actually get anywhere else, missing. Still, the device that had emerged made very good use of a bucket of warm-ish water, and it got the person underneath it clean, and that was all that really mattered.   
Madonna first steered Delilah over to the communal wardrobe, explaining as she did,   
'Now, you can't actually claim anything in here as your own except underwear, cos sharing that's icky, everything else belongs to everyone. You'll probably see Geo wearing one of Meat's belts over the next few days, and I've got my own eyes on that corset. Prince made me promise that he could have this jacket next but I don't think it'll fit him, he's got broader shoulders than me and it only just fits me, really. Anyway, this is it.' She opened a door that led between the the gathering area and Aladdin's cave. There was cloth of every colour and texture everywhere, ranging from some highly impractical looking gauzy things to rubber catsuits, to thick leather jackets. There were garments to cater for every occaision Delilah knew of, and then some she didn't. Despite the initial impression of confusion, it was actually very organised. Tops had one corner, and were then arranged by size and thickness, trousers and shorts sat heaped next to each other a short distance away. Belts hung on poles suspended from the sloping ceiling with handcuffs. Anything bondange was organised similarly but seperately, bustieres looming smugly over their non-cupped brethren, PVC and zip creations lying in piles on the floor.   
'Find something your size, and if you find something you fall in love with that _isn't_ your size, Lulu'll probably fix it up for ya. Seen his coat?'   
Delilah nodded dumbly. She'd never seen so many different fashions in one place and at one time.   
'He sewed all the leopard patches on. He's a genius with a needle.'   
'Uh huh... can I really wear any of this?'   
'Any and all. Not at the same time, of course, that'd be silly, but yeah. Any of it. It's all clean, by the way. Nothing gets in here without being washed first.'   
Delilah stood and stared for a moment at the mountains of possibility in front of her. Where could she even begin to pick out just one outfit? 

It took her the better part of an hour, but eventually she settled(from the feet upwards) on a battered pair of blue Dr Martens, dark grey UFO parachute pants(she relished the freedom of movement, and the way they _didn't_ cling to legs or try to show them off), and a belt consisting of metal scales on a length of thick black elastic with a long fringe of tassel - sewn on painstakingly, she was assured, by Lulu - which fastened with a hook. For her upper body she found a pair of luminous green carpnet(she had called them fishnet initially, then discovered that the holes were too large for that name) tights that had been converted by someone before her into a top. These she made decent by covering them with a sports bra-type affair in black, with a large pair of red lips emblazoned on the front, and a pattern of miniatures of the same design on the back. There was a bright blue glitter-coated studded collar that she found simply adorable and had to have hugging her neck. She had been sorely tempted by a similar pink one with lace glued on over the glitter, but the blue had won her over.   
'Is there anywhere I can get changed?' she asked with arms overflowing.   
'Just in here, no need to be shy. I won't look.'   
With a small shrug, Delilah waited for Madonna to turn around and stripped down to underwear. She'd just pulled on the UFOs, and noted that she'd actually need the belt for more than decoration - they were huge - when the door flew open and Geo strode in, pulling a soaked shirt off. He nodded to her. She cringed and did her best to cover herself, ashamed to be caught in a bra despite the many times she'd worn nothing more than a bikini back up on the surface. Madonna rescued her.   
'Geo darling, fuck off. Delilah's getting changed.'   
'But Cliff just chucked half a bottle over me! Why can't we both... oh yeah, new girl.' he grinned a little sheepishly. 'Sorry.' With relief, Delilah watched him leaving the room, grateful that she'd covered herself in time. The relief was short-lived. 'Nice tits there, though.'   
'Geo...' Madonna warned, and the door swung shut after him.   
'Oh - my god.'   
'What? Geo?'   
'He just said I - I - I can't even say it.' Madonna cracked a grin.   
'You'll get used to it. Get your top on, and I don't say _that_ often. Gotta get your hair cut yet.'   
Back in the gathering area, Delilah sat on the edge of the platform, Madonna kneeling behind her. Just as she was about to make the first cut, though, Prince made his presence known. He could never come into a space without announcing his arrival in some way or another and sometimes didn't even realise he was doing it.   
'How ye doing, Delilah?' the stocky Scotsman jumped down onto the boards her feet were resting on, making them jolt under his sudden weight. 'Settlin' in ok? My god, you've got gorgeous legs. Wannae shag?'   
'_What?_' she shrieked, blushing at the unexpected and overt question.   
'Leave her alone, Prince.' Madonna laughed. 'Don't mind him, he'll try his luck with anything on two legs.'   
'And mighty fine legs they are, too.'   
'Well, thanks but-' Delilah muttered, embarrassed.   
'Prince, I think the answer's no. Now go away, I'm trying to do her hair.'   
'Ach, 'sa shame. Still - I'll be aroond if ye change y'mind.' he jumped up onto the platform, and his voice changed to serious. 'It's guid tae have ye here, Delilah. Ah dinnae think I've ever seen ye mother so happy.' He backed away with his hands up as Madonna shooed him off with the scissors. Delilah stared after him for a while before turning back, asking-   
'Is he always like that?'   
'Nah, not always. Sometimes he's worse. He's a randy little bugger, but he means well. Now -' she brandished the scissors in one hand, holding up a hank of mostly synthetic hair in the other. '- ready to lose ya plastic?'   
Delilah found herself holding her breath as she felt the long blades purr through her ponytail. What remained fell stiffly around her face, long at the front and shortening to the back and still trying to be the shape it had been glued into on the surface. Her eyes widened when she saw Madonna lay the amputated hair down next to her, and she realised that she'd never seen cut hair before.   
'We'll keep that, if you don't mind.'   
'Keep it? What for?'   
'Extensions, of course.'   
'Oh.' she replied, a little dumbfounded. 'Of course.' Aretha's coiffe came to mind. Of course they'd have to keep it if they wanted extensions. Where else could they get the hair?   
Madonna was making smaller cuts, trimming the long bits back so it was a uniform length before they decided what to do with it.   
'Tell you what doll, could you separate that lot into colours? Make life easier.' Madonna handed Delilah the rainbow streaked, blonde based mass that had once been attached to her head. She couldn't quite get over that, yet it was no more unnatural than filing her nails. Even when she'd had that dreadful red bob from waist-length white she'd never actually SEEN the removed hair. Madonna fussed a little more, neatening the overall shape. Delilah started picking out the coloured sections, and laid them out in a rainbow on her left thigh.   
'Is the blonde natural, or are you the same colour as your mum?' It took Delilah a second to recall her original hair colour. It had gone through the entire spectrum over the past couple of years.   
'Er, same colour, I think. The blonde's a grow-through. The, um, streaks are dyed...'   
'Right, you wanna keep it like that?'   
'Well I don't have much choice, do I...?' she trailed, looking round at Madonna, who was grinning at her naivety. As well as the grin she saw blue segments in her hair, which pretty much answered her question.   
'It's not as efficient as the overland parlors, but yes, we have hair dye. I think you'd look good henna'd, if you just want a couple of days to see what it's like.'   
'Is that a colour?'   
'Kinda reddy brown.'   
Delilah contemplated this for a while. It sounded like something she'd had before, a little. For a few weeks when she was fourteen the messy look had been in(though she'd been blonde), and for a while when she was sixteen the natural look had been in, and she'd had a colour that was labelled 'Burnt Toffee Volcano'(but it had been long), so the mental image was kinda there - she could mix and match it, given time.   
'Prrrr-eeeaorwl?' a voice by her right knee offered. She looked down to see a large-boned black and white cat inspecting her, head slightly tilted to one side in curiosity. He gave the overall impression of wearing a dinner jacket that had once fit him snugly, but was now a size to large. He also had the air of an inspector who'd come across something unusual on his rounds.   
'Hello, sweetheart! Come to join us?' Madonna replied.   
'Hrrr.' she patted the ground firmly by Delilah's thigh, and possibly the most conversational cat Delilah would ever meet jumped up onto it.   
'Say hello. This fine old gentleman here is Blackjack, just put out your hand - no, like this -' Madonna showed her, cupping her hand upwards for Blackjack's inspection.   
'Make sure you're nice to him, he's her baby.' Seal said. A pink nose bespeckled with water droplets delicately sniffed Delilah's fingers, causing whiskers that would have won the International Facial Hair of the Year competition to vibrate. She looked at his asymmetrical face, with his salt-and-pepper whiskers and eyebrows. She took in his paws, one elbow-length white evening glove and one barely above the wrist. One ear had a white tuft of hair inside it. When he sat with his arms neatly together there was a clear white zig-zag across them where none should have been, trailing on from his bib. One foot stuck out to the side, and had an unevenly topped sock on it, his knees covered with thin white lines.   
'My goodness, he's deformed.' she whispered, innate pity mingling with well-trained disgust. 'Wouldn't it have been kinder to put him down early?'   
'What are you talking about?' Madonna asked, shocked. 'How's he deformed?'   
'Look at him. He's white in all the wrong places.'   
'That makes him deformed?'   
'Well yes, of course.' The well trained phrase trotted out without her thinking. Of course this cat was deformed, he didn't have the right markings, and deformed creatures shouldn't be made to suffer by being alive. Everyone knew that.   
'Not down here it doesn't.' Madonna said firmly. 'It doesn't affect him at all. I don't think he could care less if he was purple.'   
'Sorry.'   
'I don't suppose it's your fault what you've been told. My god, are they calling irregular markings deformities now? How... Ga Ga.'   
Delilah shifted uncomfortably. She didn't like it when those two syllables were said around here, always spat out, the name of the enemy. The name of her lifestyle, her home, her friends, her whole world, until two nights ago. It made her feel guilty for who she'd always been.   
Of course come to think of it, having slightly unusual fur could hardly _hurt_ him, it was ridiculous to think so. Like it was ridiculous to think that people who liked to dress unfashionably were automatically dangerous, like she'd been told all her life.   
Earnest golden eyes gazed up at her while surprisingly sharp claws kneaded at her thigh. He stopped at her yelp with a worried expression on his face.   
'He just wants to know what you're doing.' Seal said, unconcerned. He was, indeed, looking animatedly at her hands, so she showed him one thin lock of purple hair. He sniffed it delicately and decided that it wasn't for eating, so sat down awkwardly and inspected his newest arrival. She hadn't smelt dangerous or, indeed, of any other cats. Just a bit soapy and confused, so he categorised her under 'harmless'. He squeezed his eyes shut slowly and opened them again in a level eye-to-eye stare, dismissed her and settled down by her leg.   
'You've made a friend.' Madonna said approvingly. Delilah tentatively scratched at his ears and he leaned back into her hand with closed-eyed bliss.   
Blackjack didn't act as was generally expected of him. This was because, as far as he was concerned, he was human. His overall happiness was not much affected by his inferiority complex, though. He had plenty of friends, with whom he conversed loudly and often. It didn't bother him that they didn't know what they were talking about or how to construct a proper sentence, because most of the time he didn't either. He sometimes wondered, though, why it was that they were all so abnormally tall. 

The comfortable near-silence of scissors and cat purring was rudely ripped by a distant scream. Delilah jumped, nearly dropping all the hair and causing Blackjack to leap away from her, but the two older women seemed undisturbed. In fact, Madonna rolled her eyes.   
'CLIFF!' she yelled. A few seconds later, a weak   
'Yeah..?' floated back.   
'We do not want to know what you and Geo are doing, so shut the flaming hell up!'   
The answer to this bellow took a while, but was eventually a giggling   
'Sorry...' which drifted to their ears. Madonna, Seal, Blackjack and Delilah sat in silence for a while, trimming millimetres off hair, sorting coloured strands into groups, sniffing ankles and stunned, respectively. After a while Seal shook her head.   
'Men.'   
'Boys.' came tutting Madonna's reply.   
'Were they... Cliff and Geo... I mean... were they-' Delilah tentatively asked   
'Yes.'   
'Oh.' the memory of the sexually laden shriek held her. 'But... they're both boys. Aren't they?'   
Madonna's hand flew to her mouth to stifle giggles, and Seal turned away from her daughter. She couldn't hide the fact that her shoulders were shaking.   
'What?' Delilah asked, confused.   
'We shouldn't be laughing.' Seal scolded Madonna. Madonna nodded, still laughing.   
'No. No, we shouldn't.' She silenced herself, burst into a fresh bout of giggles but eventually composed herself. 'Delilah babes, Cliff's - oh, you know Cliff.'   
'He's... gay?' the mists began to clear. There had been this boy in her class at cyberschool, always had different fashion to the other boys and hung around with Melanie's clique. He announced himself firmly as gay, and was even more up to date with the fashions than Kelly. Although come to think of it, she'd never seen him with another boy. That seemed to be the least important part of being 'gay'.   
'As the sixties.'   
'But what about Aretha?'   
Seal shrugged.   
'She's his girlfriend. His steady partner.'   
'That doesn't make sense.' Delilah decided. Then she added, a little uncomfortably, 'To me.'   
'You're learning.' Madonna said approvingly. 'Most things down here are a little different to how they are up in the cities, relationships included. You don't have to tie yourself to one person, likewise you don't have to swing around everyone.'   
'Amen.' Seal smiled. 'I'd never be able to keep Paul away from the other girls. Hey, he wouldn't be able to keep me away from the boys.' Along with the embarrassment of hearing even the slightest mention of her mothers' sex life, Delilah felt a small flush of pride that the leader of the clan had chosen her to be his partner. A few images flittered through her mind of the past day and a half, Seal with Big Macca, Seal being groped by Prince, Seal wrapped around Britney. Britney, of course, with Meat, but the night before he'd been holding Madonna, who Jackson Five had mistaken her for. Prince... she didn't try to catalogue all the partners she'd seen him with.   
'I think...' she sought something diplomatic to say. '...I think this is going to take some getting used to.' 

The 'grow-through' dye was invented as a way to semi-permanently re-colour the hair so that the re-growth (any person who has ever bleached or dyed their hair will know the dreaded roots) doesn't appear as a sharp line that screams 'I haven't re-dyed my hair yet!'. It works by altering the genetics of the hair follicle, effectively dyeing it, so that it continues to grow the dyed colour. As each hair falls out, though, the replacement root is unaffected by the dye and grows back the original colour. The overall effect 'grows-through', similar to that of a person going grey.   
Because of its more or less permanent nature, the grow-through is used mostly by the middle aged to old population, who are more likely to keep one style and colour for longer than a week at a time. It is generally not used by the GaGa kids on its own, but when the predicted fashions favour a particular colour over the next few style periods - for a base, for instance - it is used in conjunction with other, more temporary, dyes. back

_(I know it's a dinky little update... please don't hurt me...)_


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